


The Sacrifice of Icarus

by misch3fbunni3



Series: Icarus Rebirth [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Adoption, Amputation, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Another Bet, Antagonizing banter, Bets, Bionics, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Bodily Fluids, Choking, Chris’s fuck bucket list, Claire’s eyes are bleeding, Clones?, Consensual Violence, Cybernetics, Disembowelment, Dom/sub, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Domestication, Dubious Science, Emotional Roller Coaster, Endometriosis, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, FTM hysterectomy, Fellatio, Frotting, Game Plan, Graphic Description, Grief/Mourning, Grieving, Guardian Wesker, Heavy Angst, Homeowners, Hospital Sex, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, IVF, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, It’s all about the data, I’m not one to write this much cheesy shit but now it exists, Jill is a smug asshole, Josh Stone-Mentioned, Just sex while one is an amputee, Leon S. Kennedy-Mentioned, M/M, Mating Press, Mentions of Rape, Minor Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield, Mission Planning, Multiple Orgasms, Not quite rock punching but close enough, Or Is It?, Original Character(s), Outdoor Sex, Pheromones, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prosthetics, Rescue, Rock breaking, Rough Sex, Science Experiments, Semi-public fucking, Seriously I have no clue how this happened, Sexual Violence, Sheva Alomar-Mentioned, The past coming back to bite Wesker in the ass, Transgender Parent, Voyeurism, Wesker loves messing with Piers, Wesker!Switch, Yup I managed to create a scenario for waterfall sex, amputee sex, but Wesker deserves it, but not the focus, cheesy as fuck, cheesy fluff, exhibitionist kink, gratuitous violent injury, pcos, pregnancy loss, waterfall sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 55,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26015893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misch3fbunni3/pseuds/misch3fbunni3
Summary: After Wesker finally regained the power he had lost after his devastating assault and massive injuries, he had managed to gain control of his new strength with Chris’s hand at the reigns. Wesker and Chris fall into a steady rhythm of give and take while preparing for their first battle with Free Arcadia, the new company birthed from the remnants of Tricell and Wesker’s stolen DNA. However, everything is operating under a false sense of security with a traitor in their midst, and Wesker, Chris, and the BSAA have no idea what they are about to walk into which could very well destroy everything Wesker and Chris had worked so hard to preserve of their whirlwind relationship from a decade past.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Series: Icarus Rebirth [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749898
Comments: 30
Kudos: 47





	1. The Mastery of Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, welcome back and there is a lot going on in this chapter, a lot. Secondly, I deeply apologize in advance. Again, read and heed the warnings.

Piers Nivans excitedly jogged down the hallway towards his captain’s office. It was later in the evening, but he was just too excited not to share his latest results on the firing range. He had finally surpassed his captain’s marks, and he was going to rub it in the older man’s face.

The hallway towards his captain’s office was deceptively deserted that evening, which was usually a bustling affair. Piers guessed everyone had something to do that Thursday night, except maybe him, not thinking any further of the deceiving emptiness or what it could possibly mean.

Captain Redfield usually spent a lot of time in his office nowadays outside of training, and Piers hoped to catch him before he left for the day. The Captain had been on sabbatical several months prior after they had lost one of their team members during a partially harsh mission. The brunette had not taken it well, who also happened to be dealing with other domestic issues from what he had heard with his partner, who of all people, was the BSAA’s strongest asset and notorious tyrant BOW, Dr. Albert Wesker.

Despite knowing his captain was taken, Piers could not help his little man-crush. Ever since Captain Redfield had started mentoring him after he was specifically recruited from the military by the older man, alongside his combat team partner Jill Valentine, Piers could not help but be attracted to the carefree pure-hearted soldier.

Finally making it to his captain’s office, he noticed the door was shut, which he found to be very odd since Captain Redfield almost always had his door open unless he was chewing someone out for doing something idiotic, which had to be pretty bad since the captain was probably one of the biggest pranksters of them all.

Arriving at his captain’s office door, Piers went to knock but heard a loud thunk and his hand froze just above the wood frame, hesitating. He went to knock again but suddenly heard a lusty soul shuddering moan that was definitely that of his captain’s and certainly not a sound of pain. It was actually a sound of the complete opposite of pain. Swallowing thickly and not knowing the situation he might be interrupting, Piers shifted towards the left of the door to look through part of the open slatted blinds.

Suddenly standing stock still, he could not believe what his eyes were seeing as they widened comically, sucking in a sharp breath. The scorecard he had in his hand fluttered to the floor as he watched as his captain arched in absolute ecstasy on his couch, riding the thick cock of his partner, Dr. Albert Wesker, who was attacking the brunette’s neck fervently with his mouth. His captain was on full display minus one boot covered foot and scrunched-up shirt, every other article of clothing had been scattered around the room in apparent haste of the participants who were completely enamored with each other.

A pale hand angled his captain’s head back against the blonde’s leather-clad shoulder while the other hand slid across the sweat sheened chest to attack the brunette’s nipples where the shirt had been scrunched-up. One of Chris’s hands was stroking his own cock with an intensity of a man just on the cusp of release, pre-cum dripping and glistening down the pumping fist. The brunette’s other hand had a solid white-knuckled grip of blonde locks, forcing the mouth against his neck to attack the skin there with more enthusiasm. Another more prolonged moan was ripped from the brunette’s heaving chest.

Piers knew they were a thing, but they never made it very apparent around the campus, and never any blatant public displays of affection unless they were so subtle no one thought anything of it. At first, Piers himself never really noticed, only having eyes for his captain and oblivious to anything else, until the status was brought to his attention, and then he started seeing it too. Little things, a brush here, a glance there, an evil glint or obscene gesture. Actions one would see couples who had been together a very long time doing. History of how the two have come to be together was legendary, and rumors swirled of it starting in Raccoon City.

It was not hard to deny this fact now as Piers watched his captain thrust himself with straining muscular legs on Dr. Wesker cock, both in the throes of intense ecstasy. However, his presence was finally noticing as a pair of ethereal orange eyes flashed brightly at the young man staring intently in through the blinds.

.....

Chris never noticed the voyeurist and only seemingly had one mission, riding the throbbing cock currently buried deep inside him that was angled just so that it slid along his insides in such a sensual manner causing sounds of intense pleasure to now be ripped from the brunette’s gaping mouth, an announcement of the impending building climax.

Wesker was content for the moment to let Chris exhaust himself trying to reach his orgasm and leisurely thrust his hips to meet every third or so harshly maneuvered movement down on his cock by the gripping muscular body above him. It had taken some time to finally control his new strength in order for the two of them to have such intimate relations again, and he wanted to relish the moment as long as he could.

Even then, there was still much for him to desire. Having to control himself to not get too carried away did have its upsides and, unfortunately, downsides. No matter, pleasuring his lover was always the end goal for Wesker, and if he wanted more, well, there were other options for the blonde that the couple had creatively come to terms with, with many agreements and exuberance between them.

Wesker had heard the young man coming down the empty hallway but did not expect Piers to stick around to peep, obviously not having been in the vicinity any of the other visits Wesker had made to Chris’s office with the door closed. It was one of their guilty pleasures, some leftover thrills from their STARS days of fucking anywhere and everywhere in the precinct those short weeks they had indulged in each other before the mansion incident. There was something incredibly exciting about almost getting caught by your coworkers fucking your subordinate in random places.

When Piers didn’t leave, Wesker was even more surprised to catch the wide-eyed hazel gaze peaking in through the blinds in which he flashed a warning by pulsing his blazing eyes, but the younger man didn’t stand down. Piers had stepped back like he made to leave but then stepped forward again to resume his keen observation of the events transpiring on the other side of the door.

Wesker had to admit to himself the sniper had some big balls. However, he would have to put the pup in his place later. For now, he and Chris were on full exhibition, and Wesker wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to give the young man a good show if he was going to stick around to watch the ride.

.....

Piers stepped back momentarily once the blonde spotted him. Still, when nothing happened, he glanced back and forth down the hallways to step forward again only to see the blazing orange eyes sparkle with amusement. Sharp teeth caught in a grin that split the good doctors face in an evil but incredibly seductive way. Partially ignoring the groaning man riding him to keep the eye contact a little bit longer, he then returned his mouth to his lover's neck, who sounded like he was almost at his peak.

Piers would be lying if he wasn’t affected by watching the two mature men go at it. Shifting his stance slightly, his pants now uncomfortably tight, Piers continued to watch in rapt fascination at how strong Dr. Wesker really was.

.....

Hearing the familiar sounds indicating Chris was just about to come, Wesker brought a hand down to tighten over Chris’s grip on the brunette’s cock and to circle the leaking head teasingly while snapping his hips up sharply causing the other to cry out loudly as the powerful crescendo of his climax washed over his trembling body, cum shooting onto the floor in front of them in thick globs.

Wesker jerked the brunette’s cock a few more times and looking heatedly back to the hazel staring between the blinds, he thrust the cum covered fingers into Chris’s panting mouth, disrupting the small whines of the slow winding of the brunette’s climax. Chris immediately released the blonde hairs he had a death grip on and grabbed the wrist of the cum-covered fingers tightly to keep it in place. Chris made quick work of the long appendages with his tongue, groaning deeply as they probed his mouth and battled with his tongue that was trying to clean the sticky mess with wanton passion.

To Wesker’s reluctance, the slowing of Chris’s movements had caused him to lose the build of his own climax but was not about to be put out. He still had a show to continue. Dropping his mouth to Chris’s ear, Wesker stared at Piers, his eye pulsing in intensity, he whispered quietly, “Are you ready?” Chris nodded with jerky movements against the shoulder he had leaned further back against, one eye staring lustfully at the ethereal golden that pulsed with its own light, “Yes! Fuck! Please!”

Grinning and licking the sweat from the side of Chris’s face, the blonde kept eye contact, “As you wish Dearheart.” Wesker dropped his pale hands to grabbed under the muscular thighs, lifting both legs up to start jackhammering up into the brunette’s body at an incredible pace. Chris threw his arms back to clench his fists into the black leather of Wesker’s shirt, arching his back even more and leaning into the dense muscular chest as an intense moan reverberated through the office and out into the hallway.

Once Chris’s eye closed against the unrelenting onslaught, Wesker snapped his gaze back to the peeping tom as he pummeled into the subordinate soldier’s captain, and without losing any momentum, stood up from the couch, spreading his stance to anchor himself better to continue pounding into the brunette’s tight hole. Chris cried out louder as it felt like his body was weightless as the monstrously strong hands held him up to deepen the pounding.

Chris writhed in absolute euphoria, the thick cock pounding into him had already caused him to harden again and another orgasm to build unexpectedly. Chris’s chest heaved as he continued to moan loudly, his glazed eyes staring up at the ceiling as his body became over-sensitized with the blonde’s extremely exuberant efforts. 

Chris’s second orgasm hit him entirely unexpectedly, and his body shuddered against the still pounding cock that changed angles, causing him to see stars and quickly feel a third orgasm roll right off the second. Dripping with sweat, the actions ripped an especially undignified sound from the brunette’s mouth, not even having the sense to swallow the build-up of saliva that had pooled in his frantically panting mouth.

Wesker grunted with barely restrained effort, the tight body he was pummeling into so deliciously addicting that he just wanted to lose control in it but couldn’t for fear of how badly Chris would get hurt. Gritting his newly sharp teeth, he could feel his climax building back up as Chris’s body rippled around him as he orgasmed a second time, thrashing in his grip and violently trembling against the harsh rhythm Wesker had set for them.

Wesker could finally feel his orgasm getting closer. His own breaths turned ragged, and his golden eyes met the young soldier’s in the hallway, which now starting to pulse even brighter with the coming onslaught that had been building in his system ever since he noticed they had an audience; Chris still wholly oblivious to the silent battle of wills.

Wesker dropped one of Chris’s thighs, letting the shuddering leg to sink back towards the ground, enabling Chris to twist his body and angle the still claimed leg up higher. All that Chris needed was for the fat cock pounding into him to hit his prostate just right. The thick cock did and did not stop as a third orgasm wracked the brunette’s body, causing his claimed hole to clamp down on the pummeling appendage filling him when suddenly the body behind him froze entirely and the now stationary cock pulsed against his insides as he could feel searing hot liquid fill him.

A particularly loud moan was ripped from Chris just as the body behind him stopped jackhammering against his insides, effectively causing the cessation of drawing out the third climax, allowing Chris to take several deep, ragged breaths. Suddenly, his shirt collar was pulled aside, and sharp teeth sunk into the meaty flesh where shoulder met neck, blood trickling down the slick sweat-covered skin to soak into the material of the brunette’s shirt. Chris jerked violently in protest, unintentionally milking the cock still inside him, “Fucking Christ Albert!”

A loud growl matched the loud yelling from his lover as the ethereal eyes blazed like a white-hot supernova staring directly at Piers as he rode out the incredibly powerful orgasm against the flailing body he was still deeply immersed in. Not having an audience in some time, Wesker enjoyed the youth’s apparent nervousness despite sticking around as long as he had.

Dropping his eyes to watch the crimson flow along his lover’s collarbone, he lapped at the red hidden beneath his still latched jaw as the blood flowed over his tongue. Never able to seemingly get enough, Wesker moaned and bit down harder, causing Chris to cry out, the lifeblood being one of the most intoxicating things Wesker had ever tasted in his entire life. Even more so than the sweet beverages and pastries, he always seemed to crave. Chris had called him a vampire on more than one occasion for biting. Not wanting to get too distracted in his ministrations, he snapped his eyes back up, but the young man had fled, apparently too vanilla to watch the blood play.

Chris had renewed his grip in the hair at the back of the blonde’s head, the fist shaking and pulling the stands violently, trying to wrench the teeth still gripping his shoulder to release. After several more seconds, Wesker reluctantly opened his jaw, and the neck jerked away but not very far, and he brought his hot mouth back to the flesh to lick the thin streaks of blood that now trickled sluggishly. “Sorry, you know I love the taste of you.”

Chris leaned most of his weight back against the blonde who had renewed rocking his hips up against him, the imbedded cock still partially hard. Still trying to catch his breath, Chris begged, “Please sit down.” Chris groaned as Wesker sat, bringing the brunette with him, who arched back at the sensitivity of his insides still being invaded by the blonde’s cock, which still pulsed with the older man’s orgasm. “Shit, that was fucking intense! I thought this was supposed to be a quickie!”

“That was a quickie…” But a tight response quickly cut him the blonde off, “No, it wasn’t! Fuck! Piers was supposed to stop by this evening, said he had something to tell me.” The still heaving body Chris rested against shook with mirth, causing the brunette’s frame to shake along with the force of it. Wrenching his head around towards his lover, Chris stared incredulously at the blonde who could barely hold in his amusement. “What?!—NO!! Albert!? Fuck!”

Chris’s red face was now blazing cherry red as he forcefully propelled himself off the slick partial erection that had been enticingly slowly thrusting into him with a loud squelch. Chris had looked almost as embarrassed as he did when he had caught Wesker finger fucking himself in the shower before they had reacquainted their arrangement over a year and a half ago. The comparison made Wesker’s smirk even wider. How Wesker loved getting a rise out of Chris after all the shit the younger man had pulled on him over the years. He was certainly feeling better.

Wesker outright chuckled now as the brunette became even redder, if that was even possible, and the ethereal eyes slid down the heaving frame to watch the mess he’d left inside the other’s body slide down the trembling thighs. The sight made his cock twitch, which did not go unnoticed by Chris. “No, no, and no, don’t even think about it!”

Walking over to his desk slightly bowlegged, Chris viciously grabbed several tissues from the box on his desk and started to wipe himself down of the sticky white mess. Chris swore internally that ever since Wesker had returned to tyrant status, there was twice the mess to clean up after their lovemaking. Not usually minding it when in the comfort of their residence, but neither of them had a condom, and Wesker had been particularly insistent this evening.

“Fuck! Unbelievable!” Throwing the saturated tissues in the wastebasket next to his desk, Chris sighed as he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and down the back of his neck, suddenly remembering the bite, he grabbed at it, “How much did he see?!”

Shifting his eyes from watching all his good efforts go to waste in the trash, the orange orbs flashed back up into the furious embarrassment of the brunette’s red face. Wesker grinned but didn’t say anything, just gave Chris a come-hither look that almost melted the brunette’s knees. “I know that look! No round two for you! I have paperwork to get done.” Chris froze a moment at Wesker’s sudden skeptical stare, “Geezuss, I’m turning into you…”

Chris gave Wesker a wide berth, whose gaze stalked Chris around the room, all the while, and with no shame whatsoever, slowly rubbed his renewed erection with the palm of one hand, the other hand, casually thrown over the back of the couch.

Chris was irritated as he grabbed up his boxers and pants, shuffling into them quickly and wearily eyeing the already weeping thick head of the blonde’s erection. Chris swallowed hard and would have indulged his lover if not for being so overly sensitive from the already rough handling.

Ever since Wesker’s enhancement, the older man had just as much and if not more, the libido Chris did and that was saying something. Finally pouting by Chris’s refusal, Wesker reluctantly accepted the tryst was over, sighing heavily he leaned forward to grab his black trousers and undergarments that had slide low down his legs from when he had stood up during his earlier display of superiority. Lifting his hips off the couch, the blonde slid the material up, adjusting himself to trap his still visible erection into the waistband of his now resituated pants.

Chris watched as Wesker’s face fell slightly as he adjusted his clothes and started feeling guilty. Usually, Chris would indulge all acts of debauchery with Wesker just as much the older man would him but really did have paperwork to finalize. They would be running their first mission against Free Arcadia soon, and he wanted to make sure everyone had top-notch equipment.

They still did not know what they were getting into entirely, there apparently being several gaps still in their intel. However, specific BSAA leadership making the calls felt if they didn’t take the opportunity now, they might never have the same chance.

Rising slowly, Chris stalked back to Wesker and slid a knee between the blonde’s legs and lightly pressed up against the other’s balls, causing a loud hiss to erupt from the sharp clenched teeth, apparently also still sensitive from their activities.

Chris clasped his hands to cradle Wesker's head and tilt it up towards him, “Maybe we can play later? Hmm?” Licking his tongue along Wesker’s lower lip but moving just out of reach as the other’s tongue emerged to engage. Whispering just out of reach of the pink tongue, “Give me some time to recover and finish up here?”

Wesker chucked, “Time to recover? You’re getting old, Chris.”

Chris was not amused at being called old, and his now dark impassive expression showed it. Wesker had no right to call him old, especially with the blonde just on the cusp of 50. There was a time Wesker couldn’t keep up with him not that long ago, and now that the tables have slightly turned, Chris did not find the playful banter endearing. Chris’s frown deepened and released his hold on the blonde to step back, but a hand caught his wrist to stop the younger man from stalking back to his desk. 

Looking up at the miffed brunette and smirking, Wesker finally stated, “Piers started watching right before you glazed the floor like a donut the first time.” Chris jerked his arm out of Wesker’s grasp, teeth clenched in an angry snarl, embarrassed and irritated, “Son Of A Bitch!!!!”

And with a solemn face, Wesker added, “By the way, you might want to clean that up. Don’t want anyone slipping in it.” And pointed at the several large globs of spent cum on the floor in front of the couch, “There is no explaining that away if anyone asks what it could be. Or what to fill out as the cause of a fall on a workplace injury report. There will be no living that one down.” With this, Wesker grinned playfully at his continuously embarrassed lover’s red-faced reactions who stared in gaping shock at his obvious mess.

Leaving the brunette stunned and still staring at his spent spunk all over his office floor, Wesker stood up and quickly made his exit to start walking down the hallway, only to reverse and poke his head back in several moments later.

With a deadpanned expression, Wesker added, “That pup has some balls… he watched till the very end.” And with a smokey exit, the blonde was gone, an evil chuckle echoing in his wake.

The screech and crash of an office chair being violently pushed and a desk overturning echoed down the hallway, “ **WHAT THE FUCK**???!!!!!”

*****

With the area being as deserted as it was, Piers had no concern of being interrupted as he locked himself into an empty bathroom stall several halls away to jerk off frantically. Never in his life would he have thought how fucking hot mature men going at it could be. One of such men being his man-crush.

“Fuck!”

*****

Wesker smirked evilly as he stopped just outside of the restroom being used by its one lone occupant. Not over zealously listening in, though he could tell what activities the lone occupant was engaged in. Wesker definitely had cannon fodder to hold over both Chris and the pup, and he would need to play his cards right. He made sure to leave the abandoned scorecard strategically on the floor outside the restroom for Piers to find.

This was going to be a fun game.

Not that he had exclusive rights to Chris. It’s not like they were married or engaged or anything, despite Chris teasing the idea once, but they had been living together ever since arriving in DC and intimate even longer than that. Wesker was also not good at sharing.

The evening **was** supposed to be a quickie, but after catching the peeping pup, he decided to utterly destroy Chris just to show the young sniper Wesker’s hold over the brunette. Wesker had to mark his territory after all. In more ways than one.

Grinning at how the evening’s events unfolded, Wesker hoped Chris wasn’t too upset not to resume their activities later.

Not that they would get in any serious trouble for their office antics if Piers said anything, the blonde had a more pressing concern slightly worried about something.

Chris obviously distracted with the announcement of Piers watching them fuck in his office; he had easily forgotten the love bite Wesker had graced him with. After biting Chris and licking the area to get as much of his lover’s precious blood as possible, an addicting pastime at this point to taste the brunette, one thing had kept nagging Wesker, and now he finally figured out why.

Chris had stopped bleeding reasonably quickly, and the wounds had already seemingly had healed to an extent by the time he had left Chris’s office. Any normal bite like this, Chris would have been bleeding for some time, but he wasn’t. The bleeding had slowed and stopped. This was not the first time this had happened either. So, either Wesker’s saliva had healing properties, or Chris was—no, the blonde had to confirm it first before indulging in something such as that.

Wesker needed to investigate the matter more thoroughly and already had his suspicions of what could have caused such a curious reaction. Though he wasn’t sure how concerned he really should be at this point, he still felt slightly nervous. Chris would not be please if what Wesker thought was happening to the younger man was actually happening. Overall though, it seemed to be an advantage for the brunette than a disadvantage to heal as quickly as he had been lately.

*****

That evening, Chris cornered the blonde in their residence. Chris was beyond livid. “You fucking just let him watch?! Why didn’t yo—” Chris stopped mid-yell, a vein bulging in his forehead as he stood stock-still, eyes bulging and jaw gaping at the older man who could barely hold in his shit-eating grin as he lazed on their couch, ignoring the accusatory finger that had slowly risen to now be jerked towards him. The appendage shaking in fury.

“YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!!” Chris lunged for the older man who immediately vacated his relaxed position and started dodging whatever Chris could get his hands on to throw. Seeing red and not caring at this point what he broke, Chris continued his futile attack against the blonde, who had no trouble at all ducking the angry attacks by phasing around their shared living space. “YOU DID IT ON PURPOSE!!! FUCKING QUICKIE MY ASS!!!”

Wesker saw the opportunity and took it, “Literally.”

“ **ALBERT**!!!”

Least to say, there was no round two that evening, and Wesker went to bed alone. Still, getting one up on Chris was well worth it. Chris always thought himself the master prankster, well, he had this coming for a long time.

*****

The next morning.

Chris was up very early and out of their residence before Wesker had even roused from sleep. Slightly disappointed, they had agreed to never go to bed mad at each other, and this being the first time they had not made up since making that decision over a year ago. Wesker decided he would make it up to the brunette later. It had been a while since he had been on the receiving end of their relationship, not since before his stabilization, and thought maybe it would put the brunette in a forgiving mood if he offered.

Getting ready for his day, Wesker had one stop to make before heading to the labs.

Making his way quickly to the training campus where Chris and his team were going over their mission plans and testing some of their newer equipment, Wesker stood back a ways until the opportune moment presented itself. Finally, seeing it, he stalked towards Piers who was now off a bit from the others, gulping water from a gallon-sized water jug.s

Unsuspecting of his visitor, Piers choked mid-gulp when he heard the one voice he really did not want to hear for a long time, and it purred right next to his ear, “I admire your enthusiasm pup.” Piers coughed several more times before catching his breath without any help from the good doctor standing next to him.

The pulsing ethereal golden eyes from the evening before were now covered with the notorious sunglasses, seemingly staring out at the other soldiers milling about in the direction of Chris, who was distractedly talking and demonstrating one of the newer rifles with several team members. Blissfully unaware of the confrontation taking place between his lover and protege.

.....

Piers was frozen stock still bright red next to the tall menacing blonde, only seeing the corner of one of those unnatural serpentine eyes slightly when a blazing iris suddenly rounded down to catch the young sniper with the look of a viper mesmerizing its prey, “I hope you enjoyed the show.” Smirking as Piers jerked back and away, unmistakable fear grin spanning the young man’s face now an even deeper shade of red, imitating the same shade Chris had just the evening before. The blonde chuckled at the reaction.

“However, I tend not to share my toys.” Slinking closer into Piers’s personal space and wrapping an arm around the other’s shoulders, as if they were the best of buddies, Wesker jerked the frozen body so they were both facing the distracted brunette, “So don’t make a habit of stopping by when the door is closed.”

Then Piers heard something he never thought he would have ever heard coming from the blonde’s mouth, and it made his face burn and his heart race. “Though it doesn’t hurt to indulge one’s curiosities." A pregnant pause. “On occasion.”

They stood stock-still for a moment, and slowly Piers tilted his head up nervously, still cherry-red and breaths slightly faster at the amused orange gaze now looking down at him under the rim of the sunglasses, “Sir—?!”

There was no verbal response, only a dark shark-like shit-eating grin, as Piers continued to sputter at the unexpected advice if it could even be called that. Then Piers understood, eyes narrowing and only slightly relaxing under the dense muscle of the arm holding him in place, Piers returned his gaze towards the other soldiers.

It was a holy shit moment on Piers’s part, never having experienced one such as this. Dr. Wesker had initially asked if Piers had enjoyed the ‘show.’ Never having been engaged in such activities outside of his own one on one experiences, the realization hit him like a sack of potatoes that the older man just permitted him to watch.

Sucking in a breath, Piers quickly realized another thing, Dr. Wesker had enjoyed him watching and now encouraged him to do it again. Not sure what else to make of what was happening, Piers did the only thing he could think to do, acknowledge in the affirmative, “Understood Sir.”

The steel-like hold weighing his shoulders down released him, and stepped away, leaving Piers to gape after the blonde stalking figure that was now taking his leave. Suddenly turning, the still grinning face angled towards the young sniper, “This will be our little accord, yes.” Then the head turned towards the still preoccupied captain, “I would not want Mr. Redfield to be too… distracted.”

Sputtering after the now ghostly shadow where the older man once stood, Piers face-burned once again, muttering, “Like **I’m** not going to be fucking distracted forever?!” Trying to get a grip on the moments that just transpired, this was probably the most he had ever heard Dr. Wesker speak the handful of times he had been in the other man’s presence and never before having interacted directly.

Suddenly, a hand gripped Piers’s shoulder, and he jumped, yelping an expletive, an overly exaggerated look of surprise on his face. “What did the resident tyrant want from you?!” Powers had his hands up in defense at the panic in Piers’s red face, not expecting the sniper to react so severely.

Piers could hear other whooping noises from some of his other comrades who had apparently been watching the interaction the whole time from some distance away. “It was nothing! Just some pointers on my target from the other day.” Most of them accepting the lie, Piers left it at that, not wanting to give up where he was precisely yesterday evening in case the others were aware of the unspoken closed-door rule.

Piers went back to his water and took several gulps, trying to calm his still racing heart. In passing from some of the distant soldiers, he overheard one saying, “Those two are the absolute fucking power couple if there ever was one.”

Piers having almost overcome his embarrassment, choked yet again on his water and cheeks burning red as he nearly keeled over from lack of air, internally thinking, ‘You have no idea.’

Captain Redfield’s irritated voice wafted over the choking fit, “Stop pretending to be drowning Piers and get back over here!”

Giving a thumbs-up, Piers slowly made his way back to the gaggle, hoping to keep himself in check and not get too riled up interacting with the brunette, his man-crush now even more solidified. There are just some things one cannot unsee, and watching your mentor get destroyed by a big cock was undoubtedly one of them.

*****

That evening Wesker was the one to confront the still fuming brunette who had come in and gone straight to his own room, slamming the door. Giving the younger man a bit of time to hopefully calm down, Wesker knocked softly on the other’s door, “Dearheart, please… we had an agreement about going to bed angry, and you broke the rules.” A loud thunk echoed on the other side of the door and heavy footsteps approached the blonde who waited patiently outside.

The door swung open, and Chris confronted the older man standing coolly against his doorframe by jabbing a finger into Wesker’s bare chest, obviously still incredibly pissed, “You know I fucking mentor him! Now I can barely look him in his eyes! Fucking asshole!” Dropping his hand, Chris roughly pushed past the blonde in his way and headed towards the kitchen. Snatching up a granola bar off the counter, Chris unwrapped it loudly and took big exaggerated bites.

Chris couldn’t even look at Wesker. He was so angry and stared at the dark wood cabinets in front of him, bracing one arm against the counter. Chris was going to have to renege on mentoring the young sniper. There was no way he could continue at this point; the professional relationship they had was now compromised because Wesker let his dirty kinks get the better of him.

Wesker’s voice purred behind him, “Based on his most recent scorecard, he doesn’t need to be mentored anymore. He might as well be mentoring you.” Wesker dared not touch the rigid body who slammed a fist against the counter, still chewing the granola fiercely, Chris shouted, “That’s not the point!”

Chris never liked having his marksman skills taken lightly, it being a great source of pride for him, and he knew the young sniper would surpass him at some point. However, hearing it from Wesker’s mouth after everything that had happened the past few days did not appease the situation.

That is until a thin leather collar with a silver clasp was thrown onto the counter to graze the white-knuckled fist, a small padlock key quickly following it with a little tink against the granite. Chris stopped chewing instantly upon the two objects coming into his direct line of sight, and he twisted his head so fast Wesker could hear the bones grind in the other’s neck.

Desire burned in the downturned glowing ethereal orange eyes in the head that was also slightly tilted downward. The smallest upturn of one lip spoke volumes to Chris, and any lingering anger dissipated instantly into thin air.

This was a peace offering.

Wesker was giving up complete control to Chris to do as he pleased.

Chris snatched up the collar and key and turned completely to face the older man who only wore a pair of thin sleep pants, feet bare, already in the assumed position, his eyes tilted completely downward now and expression neutral. Chris stepped forward and pressed his body tightly against Wesker’s, and gently tilted the submissively positioned chin up to place a chaste kiss against the passive lips, “You may…” In which the blonde returned the action immediately in the same fashion he received it.

Pocketing the key for now, Chris brought the collar up and tenderly fastened the intricately designed leather around his lover’s neck, making sure it was snug. Without warning, Chris grabbed the pale neck in a bruising grip, cutting off the older man’s air supply and pushing Wesker’s back bodily against the island counter harshly, grinding against the already throbbing erection through the thin pants, “You do everything I say. Without a word. And maybe. Just Maybe. I’ll let you cum.”

A sharp up and down motion of the struggling red face torn between panic and ecstasy was the brunette’s only answer. Chris released his grip and an incredibly controlled silent gasp for air shuddered against his chest.

Pleased at Wesker’s impeccable timing, there were no urgent plans for either of them the next morning or afternoon for that matter. They had time to play.

.....

If anyone had decided to visit them, they would have thought a tornado had gone through the apartment that started in the kitchen, made it’s way to one side of the apartment, and then the other with the two men passed out in the middle of it all on the couch, wrapped possessively around each other.

Chris had given the blonde just as much as he had received the day prior. And then some for good measure.

*****

The mission was a complete and utter failure.

It was an absolute bloodbath.

Everything that could have gone wrong with the mission went wrong right from the start. Free Arcadia was ready for them and had anticipated the deftly planned raid. There must have been a mole or hacker, or something to compromise the entirety of the BSAA mission as there was no way Free Arcadia could have known they were coming. The BSAA units were overwhelmingly unprepared for the counter onslaught and they paid for it dearly.

After Chris and Wesker’s team infiltrated the main facility, several team members had been killed within minutes of the breach by rapidly moving sleek black profiles that ran on all fours. The movements eerily similar to Wesker’s, and the blonde had no doubt what these things were, and it caused chills to run up his spine with barely repressed crushing anxiety. In addition, Wesker could smell his DNA in them, and it caused an unrestrained animalistic territorial response in him as he bared his teeth and engaged the threats.

One of the creatures targeted him directly from the very start, the larger of the two monstrosities, and it surprisingly took much more effort to battle the sharp claws and teeth then Wesker imagined as it tried to rip his body to ribbons. Not wanting to have to resort to his newly developed powers right way, Wesker went hand in hand using pure strength and strategy as he did not want to give Free Arcadia any more advantaged than they already had.

Wesker’s files at the BSAA had been classified since before the approval of his proposal, and even before he had agreed to work for them, still a broken mess in their recovery ward. Such information being incredibly damaging if it was publicly known the company had acquired and even encouraged the advancement of the tyrant BOW, Dr. Albert Wesker, in addition to his employment there.

Wesker’s attention being solely focused on the beast partially composed of his DNA trying to rip his throat out, he didn’t notice the armored security taking positions further back on the battleground until it was too late. Continuing to grapple with the sleek monster, it stopped a moment to stare at Wesker, flaring its reptilian nostrils to take in his scent, as if finally recognizing what Wesker already knew. The serpentine eyes of yellow encircled by red narrowed at its now recognized competition, the pause in their confrontation outliving its welcome.

Snapping a hand up blindingly fast to grip the monster’s neck, Wesker squeezed the thick hide until he felt bones snap under the pressure. Wesker held his grip until the massive creature’s violent movements slowed. Suddenly he was violently jerked forward. A small surprised sound left his mouth as an anti-BOW round pierced his heart from the back and sloughed its way straight through the front of his chest and into the thrashing monster, causing him to drop the squirming carcass on the pavement.

Taking several staggering steps away from his progeny, Wesker watched numbly as blood splattered the ground with red that gushed from between his blindly groping fingers. Time stood still a moment, and he couldn’t breathe as blood bubbled thickly past his lips and down his chin and neck.

The ground rushed up to meet his face brutally, and he couldn’t comprehend when or how he had fallen to his knees, much less collapse altogether. Wesker could only hear the buzzing static, and muffled sounds as an image of Chris’s smiling face flashed in his vision, his brain had taken an incredible shock from hitting the ground harshly, unable to process any imagery he laid his rolling eyes on.

Through the haze of his body trying to heal the grievous wound, he jerked as two slugs hit his right shoulder, and the world suddenly became incredibly loud again with gunfire, screaming, and the screech of creatures surrounding him. Creatures? He swore he had just killed one of them. Wesker snapped his eyes back and forth, trying to take in his surroundings, the carcass nowhere in sight.

“Wesker! Get up! Get up now!!” A female voice. Jill?! Wesker jerked forward to roll his sluggish appendages to get up on hands and knees, pressing his forehead against the ground, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to propel himself to his feet.

Another voice he barely recognized buzzed in his ear, “Get up, Dr. Wesker!! Get up! We need you!!”

Two more slugs hit a thigh, the pain of it momentarily until he felt the familiar chemicals of his protective anti-BOW round formula finally kick in. Wesker could feel his healing rekindle rapidly against the damage in his chest, and he coughed violently, clearing the blood from his lungs and esophagus as his heart knit itself back together.

“Albert! Look Out!”

Chris. Chris was here. Chris is here! He’s too close! Wesker jerkily stood up as fast as his body could in his condition, looking around for the brunette when suddenly a solid body launched into him, and he went sprawling sideways several feet away against the ground. Skidding slightly, the road rash along his cheek the least of his worries.

Momentarily stunned once again, Wesker could hear screaming. It was like it was right next to his ear as it reverberated in his head. Then a pause, a gurgled breath, then the sickly sounds of flesh tearing and bone splintering as the screaming resumed louder and higher. Hot blood dripped over his face and soaked into his clothes.

He was too slow. Still having immense trouble focusing, Wesker staggered to roll his body so he could face towards the horrific sounds that were much too close. Wesker intimately knew that voice and the smell of the hot liquid raining down upon him.

Having lost his sunglasses at some point after his heart had literally exploded out of his chest, the pale face splatter heavily with blood was upturned in utter horror, the wide naked orange eyes blazed brightly with otherworldly fear at the grisly sight before him. Wesker’s heart stopped but not because it was fragmented into little tiny pieces.

“ **CHRIS!! NOOO!! … NOOOOOO!!!!** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, what I have planned for part 2, requires several cliffhangers in the beginning. Sorry!! But don’t worry, I have a plan to make it all better!! Eventually…
> 
> In addition, this will be updated much slower then Desecration. Probably looking at every 2-4 weeks. Working full-time and completing my capstone for my master’s will definitely be eating a lot of my free time up. But you might get shorts in between for my other works to make up for it.
> 
> Note, with Wesker having his power back, he can’t help but indulge in game playing with his lover, especially with Chris always being the tease he is.
> 
> Lastly, I might do a follow-up drabble for the leather collar scene. I have a few ideas stewing.


	2. Desperation of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was too much blood and Wesker knew this, but his brain would not accept the consequences of such incredible loss. Wesker would not accept that Chris was dying. Could not accept it. Except the wounds Chris had sustained were fatal, and too much blood had already pump out with each panicked heartbeat as the trail across the floor was evidence of this.
> 
> Suddenly, the cries stopped, and the panicked unseeing eyes were no longer rolled back unseeing. Wesker stared at Chris’s pale sweating face, eyes trying to slowly focus on his surroundings. Terrified hazel found the blazing pulsing orbs of his lover, glazed thickly with unshed tears, who towered above him, face splattered with his blood. Chris swallowed thickly as his brain slowly processed the expression on Wesker’s face. The brunette’s voice was raw from screaming, and Wesker visage broke upon hearing Chris’s next words, “I’m so sorry, Albert. I’m ... I’m so sorry. Please forgive me… I can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for Chris’s and Wesker’s interaction.  
> The Leftovers – The Departure Suite - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHrKoE1cdEo
> 
> I’m not 100% satisfied with this chapter, but I’ve been sitting on it for weeks and I can’t seem to be able to make it any better.

“ **CHRIS!! NOOO!! … NOOOOOO!!!!** ”

Everything froze in time and Wesker forgot how to breathe as he stared up at Chris’s body, which writhed above him as he was being crushed and torn apart by the beasts that were initially aiming for him. That is until Chris pushed the blonde out of the way.

Now the wailing brunette was stuck in the middle of a gruesome tug-of-war. One arm crushed completely at the bicep in a thick clawed fist; bone ripped from the shoulder socket. Chris’s legs were crushed against each other in the other beast’s fists, muscle and bone ripped apart and splintered by their pure strength. The suspended body convulsed violently. Chris’s screams of agony echoed across the expanse of the battlefield, and all heads turned towards the gristly display, friend and foe alike.

The scene before him finally registered. Wesker knew the brunette was bleeding out and fast, and there was no more time to hesitate, that he needed to get up and act. That he was on the brink of losing the only other person in existence who he truly cared for and that he loved with all his being.

Fully processing that these monsters had mortally injured his lover, a switch clicked in Wesker’s emotion-fueled brain to allow the power to consume him and finally take over. Wesker saw red and he lost complete control, letting the virus propel his instinct to act.

The sclera of his eyes exploded with blackness from the enraged blazing irises, fueled with hatred that these creatures, his progeny or not, dared hurt his mate. Black scales enveloped his arms and his gloves ripped where his once pale fingers had extended into razor-sharp claws. Wesker could only process one thing, protect Chris, get him to safety, then neutralize all threats.

Without hesitation, Wesker was on his feet in the blink of an eye, his entire arm sunk through the monster’s neck that had held Chris’s legs in its crushing grip, snapping the spine, and effectively decapitating the creature. The beast violently released the mangled limbs, causing more damage as the claws racked across already destroyed flesh as the connections to the monster’s brain were severed by Wesker’s brutal attack.

Wesker wrapped an arm around the spasming torso to control the brunette’s descent as he was released from the beast. Wesker easily ripped the arm off the other monster that still held Chris’s left arm, releasing Chris from the last of the opposing forces. The broken body was slowly lowered to the ground by Wesker’s scaled arms, not wanting to jar the brunette’s gruesome injuries any more than they were from the brutal treatment.

Wesker came back to himself slightly, observing his surrounds and maintain eyes on all remaining threats; he managed to grab the handhold on the back of Chris IBA, and as gently as he could, dragged the screaming spasming body towards other BSAA soldiers who had taken cover behind some barriers and vehicles.

The blonde scanned the grounds, trying to gauge the best route to neutralize the rest of the human attackers as he stalked backward, dragging Chris along and leaning low to reduce the likelihood of being targeted. Wesker also kept snapping his eyes to the carcasses in case they revived again.

“PIERS! JILL!!” Wesker tried to ignore the mounting anxiety watching the thick red blood spread out from Chris’s crushed limbs the further they traveled, the red blossoming and marking their path like an entourage red carpet. “PIERS! TORNAQUETS!! NOW!!” Wesker was surprisingly able to comprehend this basic need to save Chris’s life. Not thinking of any other possibilities, Wesker continued to drag Chris’s screaming form back to where the other soldiers had taken cover from the attacking units.

Wesker finally shuffled with Chris in tow behind one of the barriers and as close to Piers’ kneeling form as he could. Piers had already laid out several medical items that would be required to stem the flow of blood, and Wesker gently released the body armor to cradle Chris’s head, slowly lowering the brunette’s upper body down.

Wesker desperately tried to ignore the deafening screams that were tearing him apart as he glanced over the pale, clammy skin of his lover’s agonized expression, eyes wide in shock, the brunette’s brain trying to comprehend why the body was not responding as more blood was lost. Wesker was not even sure Chris could see him right now, and his heart skipped several beats.

Wesker shot his raging eyes over to glance at Piers, who ignored him as he shuffled next to his captain, already wrapping a tourniquet above the damaged arm, other soldiers attending Chris’s legs. Wesker only briefly caught Jill’s horrified face as she cut the shoulder straps of the body armor and removed it and clothing off of the violently trembling torso with her knife, trying to assess all the damage. Processing that Chris was in good hands, Wesker’s next focus returned to neutralize the rest of the threats, and that meant taking everything out that wasn’t a friendly as efficiently and as fast as possible.

Quickly grasping one of his syringes, he injected himself to reduce the likelihood of temporarily being incapacitated again. Satisfied the protective formula had a moment to spread through his veins, Wesker bolted back towards the beasts with inhuman speed. He needed to make sure they would not get up again. The larger of the two had already somehow survived, not just his death blow, but the BOW round that had exploded out of his chest into what he believed to be a carcass.

Wesker needed to make sure it never rose again. Snarling, Wesker jumped into the air and arced down to ram his feet into the larger creature’s chest, crunching through flesh and bone, ripping it apart until it was a mangled hunk of meat to finally toss the beast across the battleground like a toothpick towards the Free Arcadia agents, knocking some of them over and interrupting the steady stream of bullets. Nothing was holding him back from using his newfound abilities, his blood already making the decision for him.

Wesker made his way to the other monster, dropping to a crouch, the blonde ripped through the unmoving chest, snapping ribs and pulling the creature's heart out and crushing it in a clawed fist, already cooling blood pooled up from the gaping wound. Wesker grabbed the beast's neck and dug his hands through the thick hide to grip the monster’s spine to rip its head off, similar to the action he graced the other beast with, except this one, the spine hung free from its body, dripping gore everywhere as he tossed it at a group of unsuspecting masked antagonists who shouted in surprise.

Wesker’s mind had one thought process now. Destroy. And he relished in not holding back anymore. Looking up, there were several militants in terrifyingly familiar black fatigues and gasmasks, and Wesker snarled at the closest one that had their rifle aimed at him, already having been hit several times with both anti-BOW and normal rounds. Moving so fast, the soldier didn’t know what hit him as Wesker plunged his entire arm through the other’s chest and yanking back to grip what was left of the beating beat of the agent, crushing it in his fist. Wesker bared his teeth viciously and withdrew his arm slowly, causing the soldier to drop to his knees, completely incapacitated.

Everything became a blur, Wesker having blacked out and running on adrenaline and rage, had decimated the remaining Free Arcadia agents. When Wesker finally stopped, everything was quiet save the screaming of his lover who had been torn apart so brutally that it propelled his body to clear the rest of the battlefield of their enemies. This would at least enable them to attend to the severely injured without having bullets whizzing over their heads. The bloodlust subsiding, Wesker was surprisingly clean of blood and gristle for the number of people he had just taken out, minus his arms where he had ripped through a few chests.

Content that they were safe, at least for now, Wesker stumbled his way back to Chris, who was still screaming albite hoarsely, bleeding out slightly from where Piers and other soldiers had tied tourniquets around the crushed appendages. Wesker gaped, dropping to his knees, “They need to be tighter! He’s still bleeding!” Wesker tried his best to ignore the incredibly large puddles of blood from where he had dragged Chris away from the heart of the counterattack and retightened the three tourniquets just above each crushed appendage which violently convulsed, shock having set in.

Chris was basically mangled, torn limb from limb, literally. Wesker watched as Chris’s body arched in agony, screams starting to quiet down to cries. Blood splattered Wesker’s face when Chris coughed as the blonde leaned over the younger man, trying to inspect how bad everything was. Wesker could smell Chris’s blood, and it was almost overpowering, an odd mixture of utter fear and apprehensive provocation, smelling and tasting the younger man’s blood, usually an arousing act for him.

But this was not their bedroom, and this was no intentional love bite. There was too much blood and Wesker knew this, but his brain would not accept the consequences of such incredible loss. Wesker would not accept that Chris was dying. Could not accept it. Except, the wounds Chris had sustained were fatal, and too much blood had already pump out with each panicked heartbeat as the trail across the floor was evidence of this.

Suddenly, the cries stopped, and the panicked unseeing eyes were no longer rolled back unseeing. Wesker stared at Chris’s pale sweating face, eyes trying to slowly focus on his surroundings. Terrified hazel found the blazing pulsing orbs of his lover, glazed thickly with unshed tears, who towered above him, face splattered with his blood. Chris swallowed thickly as his brain slowly processed the expression on Wesker’s face. The brunette’s voice was raw from screaming, and Wesker visage broke upon hearing Chris’s next words, “I’m so sorry, Albert. I’m ... I’m so sorry. Please forgive me… I can’t.”

Wesker brought shaking hands to hold Chris’s face, staring intensely into Chris’s eyes, searching the other man for something, a glimmer, but the brunette was already starting to slip away. Chris’s body was giving up, already beginning to shut down, and the fact that Chris was no longer in agony indicated the imminent decline. Wesker knew there was no turning back from this. Chris brought a trembling bloody hand up, the one arm that escaped the vicious attack, which Wesker grasped gently and pressed the trembling fingers to his lips to kiss them and then to his cheek to caress and lean into it, “I love you, Albert.”

Wesker did not realize he was sobbing until the tears splattered against the pale skin of Chris’s chest, where his armor and shirt had been cut away to expose bruised skin. Wesker made no movement to wipe away the blinding tears and stared in shock as he watched his lover slowly lose his battle to survive. The blood-starved brain having already shut down the ability to feel pain. A small reprieve for the dying brunette.

There was just too much trauma. One arm and both legs crush, crushed beyond repair, and an unknown amount of internal injuries, but despite these, Chris smiled up at Wesker, the words choked through a mouthful of blood, “We had time. It was so amazing. To get to love you again. It was perfect. Thank you. And I’m so sorry. That I can’t…”

Wesker’s broke down completely, keening loudly, “Chris…” Once more, Wesker placed shaking hands on either side of Chris’s face, bringing their foreheads together to stare into the younger man’s eyes, “Please Chris! I need you! I need you here! Please don’t leave me! You can’t leave me here alone!” Wesker was blubbering, but he didn’t care. No one else existed at this moment except him and Chris.

Chris continued to smile, sliding a shaking hand through the blonde strands, “You’ll be ok, Albert.” The hand dropped to be placed over Wesker’s heart that was pounding, enough where Chris could probably feel it through Wesker’s ripped tactical shirt from where the blonde had taken an anti-BOW round to the chest. Wesker continued to sob, sucking his lower lip between his teeth to bite down hard enough to pierce through the skin, just to feel something physical over the mental anguish of watching Chris slip away. The blood from the wound rolled down his chin to splatter against Chris’s pale cheek as the younger man’s breaths started to hitch, eyes widening.

Wesker’s eyes glanced down at the droplets that contrasted against Chris’s ashen skin. Wesker’s eyes bulged as he stared as more of his blood dripped off his chin, and then he remembered. It was like a tidal wave crashing down upon him as he jerked back violent away from Chris, whose expression slowly became confused, a small noise questioning why Wesker’s face was no longer right in front of him.

This was what Wesker had spent several previous days testing. Their blood. The healing. And it never dawned upon him until this very moment, overwhelmed with the thought of losing the other half of his broken soul, as he watched his blood glimmer where it had touched Chris’s trembling skin that maybe, just maybe there was a chance to save Chris.

Wesker snapped his eyes back up to Chris’s face, now set in determination that he would do everything in his power to save Chris, as Chris had saved him. Wesker would not let the brunette die, he couldn’t. Not while he knew that there was at least a small chance to still save his lover’s life.

Even if Chris hated him forever, he would survive this, and Wesker would withstand and transcend the hatred he knew Chris could… would rain down upon him. Even if they never spoke another word to each other, Chris's continued existence would be enough.

Without saying a word, panicking as there was no time to question his resolve, Wesker ripped the leftover first aid kit open that had been ransacked through for the tourniquet in the kit, looking for one thing in particular. One little thing was all Wesker needed to save the younger man’s life.

Piers and Jill had been kneeling next to Chris’s other side but had moved back and away to give the two a bit of privacy to say their last words to each other. Piers's face scrunched up, pained knowing his captain was slipping away, “What do you plan on doing, Sir? What are you looking for?”

Without answering, Wesker started fumbling with increasing anxiety through the large first aid kit, “Where is it! It has to be here!” Finally finding all that he needed, he placed the butterfly needle, rubber cord, and alcohol wipes on the brunette’s heaving chest. Without hesitating, he wrapped the rubber cord tightly around the upper bicep of Chris’s intact arm, causing the brunette to make a small noise of discomfort. Wesker wasn’t even sure if he could find a vein with the amount of blood loss that had occurred, the brunette’s blood pressure severely degraded.

Jill this time, “Wesker, what the fuck are you doing?!” She went to reach for his deftly moving hands but stopped as he pierced her with white-hot blazing eyes, hissing at her through sharp teeth, spit flying as he dared her to touch him. Jill was furious at the blonde’s silence, but not reaching any further, she retracted her hand, knowing full well in his desperation, Wesker could very well kill her if he wanted to, and it wouldn’t take him much effort at all.

Wesker resumed his ministrations, massaging the skin of the bound arm and was surprised to find one vein though it was not raised up as much as he would have liked. Wesker could see the blue just under the pale, clammy skin of the brunette’s shaking arm. It would have to be enough. Without hesitation, Wesker ripped the entire sleeve off his left arm and using the material, quickly tied his own arm off tightly.

Piers stared stock still at what Wesker was doing, the pale hands moving swiftly, and it did not register until the blonde ripped his sleeve off and tied off his own arm what exactly was about to transpire, “Sir, are you doing what I think you’re doing?!”

Chris was barely coherent, but started to protest Wesker’s actions, limply slapping at Wesker, who grabbed the offending arm and prepped the crease for the needle, Chris panicked, “Albert…please…”

Wesker snapped his eyes up quickly to the brunette’s, unshed tears bubbling up in the younger man’s eyes, only somewhat grasping what Wesker planned to do. Wesker shot his attention back down to what he was doing, “There’s no time, Chris.” Wesker ripped open an alcohol wipe, and he started cleaning the crook of the elbow of the violently trembling arm he held tightly in his left hand, trying to keep it steady. Opening a new wipe, he did the same to his own arm, cleaning as much smeared blood away as he could, either his own or the remnants of those he had dispatched during his blackout.

Butterfly needles were not meant to be used like this, but it was his only option. Wesker could not wait around for a proper needle set. “Dr. Wesker?!” Wesker was not expecting the young sniper to grab his arm, thinking his warning to Jill would account for any of his observers, “Please, what—?!”

Wesker pushed the young man away violently and snarled, causing Piers to upend head over heels, sliding across the ground. Panic surged forth in Wesker’s desperation, “What’s it fucking look like! I’m saving his life! If I don’t do this, he will die pup, not if, not maybe. Chris IS dying and there’s no time left to fuck around.” Wesker brought his attention back to prepping Chris for the crudely improvised transfusion, “I am the only one who can save him! This is the only way!” The tirade ended with a barely repressed sob.

Without hesitation, he jabbed the blunt end into one of his own raised up veins and positioned the butterfly end at the barely noticeable vein in his dying lover’s arm, his hands shaking, gazing desperately at Chris confused face, “I would rather you hate me forever for doing this Christopher then live the rest of my life alone knowing I could have prevented your death.”

Chris weakly shook his head as Wesker held the needle just above the brunette’s arm, causing the brunette to make a weak noise of protest. Quickly explaining to the apprehensive observers before they tried to stop him again, “I’ve already had my suspicions. We both have blood type O and… I tested if this would work…” Snapping his eyes up to look at Piers and Jill guiltily, he did not want anyone to know he had been testing his and Chris’s genetic compatibility, “results were successful.” Wesker’s curiosity had played out in his favor for once.

Wesker looked extremely embarrassed at Chris’s confused expression at the blonde’s confession. Wesker never wanted Chris to know he had experimented with the brunette’s blood. Concerned with why Chris had been healing so rapidly recently and why Wesker was so attracted to the brunette on a pheromonal level, but thankful that he did. Wesker knew this would work. It had to work. There were no other options and he was frantic.

Wesker leaned down, looking into Chris’s fear-filled eyes, whispering against the bloody quivering lips that were unable to make any further verbal protests, “I cannot exist without you. It’s all or nothing, Dearheart.”

Chris’s eye widened at Wesker, finally able to grasp the meaning of Wesker’s intension at what he was able to understand from what the blonde was saying, thick tears slipping down the sides of his temples, still trying to shake his head. Despite the pain such protest caused him, Chris tried to raise his uninjured arm, but it was locked straight by Wesker’s fingers clasped over his own.

Wesker maintained eye contact with those frightened eyes of the dying man whom he loved dearly and cherished above all else. Even more than his own life. Without any further hesitation, Wesker plunged the needle into the brunette’s arm and raised their joined hands up slightly to allow for gravity to take its course, which, to his realization, was agonizingly slow.

Wesker tightened his grasp on the fingers of the brunette’s receiving arm to keep it from dislodging the needle once the thrashing started. Chris’s eyes shifted across Wesker’s face, both sobbing now. Albert leaned forward and kissed Chris and then brought his lips to the other’s forehead, “I’m so sorry, Chris, please forgive me. You can’t leave me here alone. I need you." Wesker's face crumpled, "I need you!”

Chris grunted as he trembled, a sudden violent convulsion wracked his brutalized body, and he wailed, unending as his back arched off the ground and pressed against the hovering blonde. Having witnessed Wesker’s transformation, Chris would now endure the same agony as his body broke down to adjust to the virus.

Wesker’s hold on Chris’s hand was almost dislodged from the abrupt, violent movements. Wesker pressed his other hand against the brunette’s chest to hold him down with his own weight, trying to curtail any further writhing or rolling that may dislodge the needle.

Wesker’s eye widened as he watched Chris’s eyes change. The soft hazel was taken over by yellow that exploded to glow brightly surrounding the blown pupil, black burst outwards to overcome the white sclera, like his own had. The unending wailing would forever haunt Wesker’s thoughts, and he struggled to maintain his composure as his body shook in response to Chris’s violent pain. The broken body tried to arch again, but Wesker held him down with incredible effort now, the blonde already realizing Chris’s strength had increased drastically.

Wesker observed the limbs that had been so violently damaged that no usual recourse would be able to save them. However, there was only slight healing, nowhere the required amount to enable Chris control over the mangled arm and legs ever again. Wesker’s face scrunched up in absolute frustration, thick tears fell as he sobbed, gazing remorsefully into his lover’s accusatory panicked-filled eyes, that Wesker had effectively destroyed the last of their shared humanity by giving his blood to Chris.

In Wesker’s desperate actions to save the younger man, this sacrifice was worth existing without his other half. Wesker had hoped his blood would heal the grievous wounds and allow for Chris to survive, the thought of losing the brunette too devastating. Wesker wasn’t sure what he would do if the younger man did perish, leaving the blonde alone in a world that never showed him any mercy. That is except for Chris.

The massive time and effort Chris had set aside to bring Wesker back to a reasonably functional state after his devastating assault. Chris was present almost every waking second when all Wesker wanted was to be left alone to end his misery. The rekindled friendship. The playful banter. The sinful looks. The amazing sex. The continuous showering of affection when Wesker no longer felt worthy of such things. The forgiveness. And in the end, after everything the blonde had done, Chris continued to stay by his side. For once in his life, Wesker felt loved, and he didn’t want to ever let that feeling go.

Quickly weighing his options in the instance Chris died, Wesker always went straight to world annihilation or at least destroying as many humans as possible before being put down like a rabid animal. Or possibly outright killing himself to die alongside Chris if this didn’t work. But it had to, Wesker had so much unfinished business, and he needed Chris’s strength. Not as much as before, but enough to never want to be apart from the younger man again.

Chris fought against the restraining hands, not just Wesker’s but Piers, Jill, and other BSAA members trying to hold the mangled body from any further jarring movements. Wesker wasn’t familiar with all the bodies surrounding them but was thankful to keep Chris from aggravating his limbs during the transformation. Chris’s new strength even a challenge for him to keep the other from moving.

Chris’s struggling slowly resided after several minutes, the virus having run its course and binding with the brunette’s DNA. Wesker had maintained as much eye contact as he was able, not wanting Chris to feel like the blonde would abandon him. The yellow eyes instantly made Wesker think of a wolf, which gently pulsed with a life of their own, just as his own did, the black receding to show the scaler once again.

Chris’s smell had also changed, and without thinking of what he was doing, Wesker leaned down to bury his face into the younger man’s neck and inhaled. The new smell even more intoxicating than before. Wesker struggled internally, trying to tell his brain that this was not the time. Chris shifted, face apprehensive, as a small noise tore from his strained throat as he tried to move away from the nuzzling blonde.

As he continued to inhale, Wesker caught whiff of another scent. A scent like nothing he ever smelled before and intoxicating in another way but also causing a sense of deep uneasiness. Wesker sat back on his haunches, whipping his head around to try and gauge the direction.

Chris cried out loudly, his body violently trembling still, and Wesker’s panicked brain, torn between the two directions, forced himself to look back at the brunette. With a shocked intake of breath, Wesker realized that Chris was no longer a brunette.

Wesker removed his hand from Chris’s chest, no longer in fear that the younger man would roll and disrupt the blood flow. Touching the messy hair and curling his fingers through the short strands, Chris had gone prematurely gray, almost shimmering sliver, only a few small areas of brown remained though barely noticeable.

Wesker ran his hand through the silver-colored hair. It felt exactly the same as before. Those yellow eyes searched Wesker's face and tears flowed heavily from them at the realization at what all just occurred. Wesker tried to wipe them away, but Chris shifted his head to stop the movement, a broken sob ripping from the heaving chest. Despite his apparent exhaustion, Chris released his death grip on Wesker’s hand, trying to remove the contact as he shifted as much as he could to dislodge Wesker’s fingers that still gripped his hand.

The wounds had only slightly healed but no longer a threat for Chris to bleed out. It was still visibly apparent the severe damage to bones and significant tearing of muscles and flesh. It wasn’t the best outcome and Wesker was extremely distraught; his blood not able to restore all of the damage done by the monsters, but Chris was breathing and seemingly not in danger of dying any longer.

Wesker kept vigil over the other, not sure when to stop the transfer of blood, despite Chris’s blood volume having increased significantly. Chris tried to move and turned his head to inspect his damaged arm. Extreme panic erupted, and Chris’s breaths grew erratic, realization sinking in that Wesker’s blood had prompted his body to heal over the damage bone and muscle. At least that is what it seemed like had happened as Chris tried to lean up to observe the same condition of his legs.

Dropping back, Chris's head hit the ground with a thud, and a low noise of distress was ripped from him as his eyes snapped back and forth, desperation in his blind search, racking his brain to process his current state. Chris suddenly locked onto Wesker and targeted the blonde with rising fury, as the sound increased, animalistic and slowly gaining in octave as Chris bore glowering yellow at Wesker, who still sat beside his lover, uncertain of how to respond to the change in Chris’s emotional response to what had just transpired, not expecting the rising anger that was focused entirely on him.

Chris screamed at Wesker, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME, ALBERT!! WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO!!!” Clenching his teeth, seething with rage and frustration, Chris grabbed Wesker’s wrist harshly, bruising the skin instantaneously, causing Wesker to cry out and try to jerk back sharply, but the grip was like a vice. The needles were dislodged; the small wounds healing instantaneously. Chris tightened his grip, and Wesker froze as he felt his bones fracture under the strain of Chris's fury.

Chris’s eyes blazed with rage, sclera blackened over once more, as his face flushed pink, releasing the damaged wrist to snatch his hand up to grapple with Wesker and managed to grab a fistful of Wesker’s ruined shirt, the damage from being shot in the heart having exposed the pale chest. Chris stared at the exposed skin for a moment, flashing infuriated yellow orbs between where Wesker’s heart had been severely damaged and Wesker’s confused guilt-ridden tear-filled eyes, which pulsed slightly.

Chris started to hyperventilate, confusion quickly overwhelming him, thick tears washing away the sudden rage, and his eyes reverted back to white, “What… what did you do, Love?” Sobbing, Chris yanked Wesker forward, who heaved over having to use his hands to catch himself from falling entirely onto the younger man, grunting as his wrist was still mending. Wesker choked, whispering above where he hovered over Chris, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry! I—It wasn’t supposed to be this way—It was supposed to work…”

Wesker cried out and pressed his face into Chris's chest, who stared around the mess of blonde hair, panic increasing as his eyes started to roll back, the damaged body trembled, which quickly turned violent, and it took a moment for Wesker to realize Chris was in a full-blown seizure. Wesker promptly moved back to roll him onto his side.

Deft hands quickly ransacked the rest of the kit, and before Wesker realized what was happened, Jill was injecting Chris with a tranquilizer. Wesker glared at her, but she was having none of his bullshit after everything that had just occurred and returned his glare with her own irritation. Jill spoke sternly, “He needs to rest, and it will be easier to transport him this way.” Hesitating several moments, Wesker gazed back to Chris’s unconscious face, brows pinched, reluctantly the blonde nodded his head in agreeance. Still unsure why his blood didn’t heal his lover like it should have and left him in such an ungodly state of half-healed broken limbs.

Wesker stared in disbelief as he cradled Chris gently to keep the younger man on his side as the tremors slowly subsided. Suddenly, they were surrounded by medevac personnel, and Wesker was quickly brushed aside, forced to step away. Tears renewed as Wesker rubbed a hand down his face, trying to collect himself, sniffling. Stepping further away, an anguished cry escaped him as he started pacing. He ran his hands through his hair, eyes never leaving Chris’s now still form who had been lulled into a dazed state by the tranquilizer.

Jill approached the pacing blonde, and he eyed her warily. They were accepting of each other’s presence cordially, both sharing a deep love for Chris. Jill was not happy finding out about Chris’s resumption of his and Wesker’s relationship, but she respected it and would never try to drive them apart.

Chris had explained everything that had transpired between their rekindled relationship, though keeping the more steamy details under wraps. She had known all along about them back in the day, despite Chris not telling her until after Wesker’s betrayal, but it was obvious they were up to something. But she never realized how deeply Chris had felt for the blonde back then until it almost destroyed him.

She didn’t raise her voice at Wesker, but she certainly was not happy with his actions despite Chris's survival, “I don’t even know where to start, Wesker. This is… I don’t even know what this is.” Sighing heavily, “There’s no saving those limbs.”

Barely hearing Jill, Wesker was torn between staying with Chris or explore the facility to find the new scent that was now slowly driving him mad. Wesker cut Jill’s tirade short, mumbling as he stared at her a moment before resuming pacing and gazing miserably as they worked on getting Chris ready for transport, “There is something else here.”

Jill froze, “What do you mean?” Wesker’s face crumpled, and he sucked in a breath, “It’s calling to me, I have to find it. It could be more monsters created from my DNA, but I don’t know, and I will NOT let them unleash these beasts upon the world! If that is what I am sensing, they need to be destroyed. Here. Now!” Wesker was unyielding, he had to find it, and he already regretted that he would have to leave Chris to search for whatever it was that was calling to him.

Looking at his ex-captive, “Please watch over him. And if I don’t call or return, you need to track me down. Immediately.” Jill looked at him in anger, “You’re leaving him!” Wesker put both hands up, panicked, “There is SOMETHING else here!” Taking a deep breath, Wesker tried to calm himself, but his eyes gave away the panic turning his stomach, “I need to find it.” Jill took a step back, confusion gracing her features. Anxious to proceed, Wesker spoke quickly, “If you don’t hear from me, send a team to find me. I would never, ever, leave Chris if I didn’t feel it important. But please...” Whispering low so only she could hear, “Do not let them take me again.”

Jill’s eyes widened, surprised that Wesker would even mention something happening to him again. It was almost incomprehensible for her to hear this request, much less process. Still, it dawned on her that Wesker had been a formidable enemy beforehand, and these bastards had utterly desecrated him in their brutality.

Knowing Wesker was in fear of being captured going off on his own. Jill nodded without a word. Wesker continued, checking his coms, “Ten minutes. If you don’t hear from me in 10 minutes, call my radio. If I don’t answer, send a team. Use the implanted tracker.” Jill nodded affirmative, face stern, and crossing her arms, “You better make it back in nine.” Without another word, he was gone, his ghostly shadow left in his wake.

Wesker traveled through the facility at a rushed pace, not wanting to leave Chris for long. Wesker was in a daze, trying to wrack his brain at what it could possibly be Free Arcadia had been developing to affect him so much. He had been able to smell the beasts that had attacked them, but their scents had been a territorial threat. This new smell made Wesker want to be protective, and it made him feel very uncomfortable with what could drive him to feel such a strong reaction on scent alone. The blonde’s emotional state wholly offset by the entirety of the evening's events.

.....

No one realized there was a live feed. Several cameras were anchored, unseen throughout the grounds and facility. Everything that had transpired was being recorded offsite. Everything.

A shadowed figure observed the ongoing battle. Watching the tyrant as he seemingly bounced around the battlefield, taking anything out that moved after one of the BSAA soldiers was mortally wounded.

The blood transfer to the soldier and his seeming infection. The soldier’s violent outburst. The intimate contact.

And the subsequent absence of the tyrant as he moved through the facility, searching for something far in the maze of corridors. Something unseen driving the tyrant’s movements.

The figure smirked. Impressed with how far the blonde had come from the broken mess the twelve had left him that day on the ship.

Perhaps this newly upgraded tyrant could still be of use.

.....

The facility was like a maze. Suddenly overriding the protective feeling was pure and violent hatred. Wesker’s nostrils flared as his pursuit halted abruptly, unable to move forward as if paralyzed.

Wesker remembered all of his attacker’s scents, and he could now smell three of them, and they were in the same direction that his blood was calling for him to move towards. Knowing that three of his antagonists were here caused a cacophony of emotions to swirl even more than they already were.

Already feeling guilty for leaving his lover despite knowing Chris was safe, anger and seething hatred bubbled up, and a guttural sound escaped him to echo down the hallway. Wesker clenched his teeth, trying not to make any more noise as he brought his hands up to violently grasp his head in his hands, black erupting over the pale fingers.

Abrupt images from his assault flashed past his vision, and he stumbled as agonizing pain rose up and radiated outward from his right hip and left shoulder from the ghost of injuries he has sustained, his expression stunned as he breathed harshly as he caught himself against the wall.

The feeling of nausea accompanied the violent recollection of the pain and anguish he had been forced to endure, and Wesker tried his best to keep the bile in his stomach by swallowing continuously but ultimately failed. Collapsing to his hands and knees, Wesker was violently sick. Even when there was nothing left in his stomach, his body heaved and convulsed until he spat blood. Tears flooded his eyes at the inability to stop the violent reaction.

There was a lot Wesker didn't want to remember of the assault, a lot he couldn't remember; most memories had become a blur of pain and agony where his mind had wrapped itself in a protective cloud, but now the memories were bubbling up, forcing Wesker to re-experience the seemingly eternal torment of the vicious attack that had left his crippled.

Wesker was systematically losing all control of himself, being torn in so many directions, from the failed mission, encountering his bastardized monster offspring, Chris’s grievous injuries and subsequent transformation, Chris’s rage, this new protective-driven need, and now continuous flashbacks at potentially crossing paths with some of his antagonists.

Wesker screamed as he pressed his forehead against the cold floor above the puddle of sick and blood, smashing a fist down to create a deep crater, cracking along the seams in the immaculate floor, as bone gave way only to heal moments later. The fresh pain breaking through the remnants of the devastating visions, and Wesker was finally able to focus and bring himself back to the present.

Wesker leaned back on his haunches, able to catch his breath. He brought a shaking black fist up to smear away the sick and blood that dangled from his trembling mouth. Slowly rising on violently shaking legs to lean against the wall, Wesker smirked, which morphed into a shark-like grin as laughter abruptly rattled his chest, pushing off the wall to take increasingly confident steps. The ghost of his injuries fading with each step forward. Situated in a half-mad state, he fully intended to hunt down and destroy those who dared violate him.

It was perfect. The outlet Wesker didn’t know he needed right now but undoubtedly delighted in. The bloodlust was causing him to be caught between arousal and extreme anxiety at the anticipation of finally getting to face those who were present during his assault. Maybe he could get some answers if he didn’t accidentally kill at first sight.

Coming into a more refined laboratory area, he could hear voices and other sounds but could not make out what was being said. Wesker stood stock still suddenly, searching his person for what would have saved so much heartache earlier, finding what he was looking for, the blonde injected himself with the protective formula. Knowing full well he would be encountering anti-BOW rounds; he needed to be ready for them, especially not having any backup.

Rounding the corner, Wesker stalked towards his prey menacingly that were now in sight, eyes turned black in a seething rage. The gunbattle that followed was incredibly short. Wesker took a few hits, but the injection lasted just long enough for the blonde to lunge at the one called Agent Sparrow, teeth bared in a tight grimace, and the scaled fists knocked the agent several meters down the hallway to crack against the far wall and crumple into an unmoving heap.

The secondary figure had some skill, and Wesker felt a round graze his shoulder, the familiar pain agonizing as it ate away his flesh, the injection apparently having a limit to how much anti-BOW material it could protect against. Facing off against Agent Lonnie, there were more shots, but Wesker quickly avoided them and knocked the soldier’s weapon from his hands to grip the agent’s throat, pressing the man against the wall forcefully. Wesker seethed, “You were there.”

The agent seemed shocked at the statement, “How could you possibly know that? I was never in the room! I didn’t even want to be there!” Wesker tisked, clicking his tongue, shaking his head, “You could have walked away.” Fumbling with the clawed fist that tightened around his throat, Agent Lonnie protested, “No, I couldn’t get out of it!” Wesker hissed, baring sharp teeth at his captive, “YOU VOLUNTEERED THEN!!!”

Agent Lonnie hesitated, uncertain now despite how he had felt during the mission, not wanting to even be in the room much less present, he stood guard outside in the stairwell as far away from the vicious actions of his fellow soldiers as possible. However, Agent Lonnie’s hesitation secured his death, and Wesker moved too fast for the agent to even see but felt the aftermath of the fist that had been rammed through his left lung to crumple the wall behind him. Cracks spiraled outward from the impact of the bloodied fist against the wall.

Wesker fumed in the agent’s face, “Can you imagine continuously feeling like you are drowning in your own blood?” Lonnie coughed, and blood splattered the tyrant’s face. Wesker was torn between curiosity and rage as he bared his teeth at the agent. Wesker whispered into the dying agent’s ear, “Everything was taken from me that day. And now I will take it all back by tearing you all to pieces. One. By. One.” With these parting words, Wesker wrenched his hand back out of the agent's chest, watching intently at the intense blood splatter across the floor at the violent retrieval.

Wesker let the agent sink to his knees, whose eyes bulged in disbelief and staring at nothing. Except, those eyes did find Wesker’s smoldering gaze, and keeping eye contact, collapsed onto his side. Wesker watched as the agent took his final breath, eyes still on him. Wesker felt no remorse for this soldier, who was only standing guard. That regardless, Agent Lonnie was still part of the team, and in extension, was guilty of the crimes committed against his body. Agent Lonnie had stood by, listened to what was done to him, heard his screams, and was indirectly witness to Wesker’s torment and pain, and had done nothing.

Sudden movement further down the hall caught Wesker’s gaze, and he dashed forward. Agent Sparrow had roused from where Wesker had tossed him against the wall, but before the agent was able even to bring his weapon up, a black claw wrapped around his neck, digging into the tender skin, and lifting him into the air.

Pressed painfully up against the wall, Agent Sparrow grunted at the intense pressure of the incredibly dense body mass that pressed him even further into the concrete at his back. Sparrow stared in absolute terror at the pulsing white-hot irises glowering with deadly intensity, the black surrounding them, making them all the more fierce in their ethereal rage.

Wesker pulled off the protective mask and helmet Agent Sparrow wore, dropping them to the floor to observe the terrified eyes of one of his antagonists. Wesker needed to see the fear, feel it as the agent trembled against him. Wesker’s blood demanded justice despite his reclaimed strength.

Wesker purred in the young agent’s ear, “Did you enjoy touching my cock? Stealing my seed for these sick depraved monsters?" Leaning back, Wesker observed the agent's reaction, "You had to have known what it would be used for.”

“I didn—!!” Agent Sparrow’s hair was viciously grabbed, and his head smashed back against the wall; instant massive damage bloomed as his skull cracked, blood trickled from his ears and nose as his eyes rolled up.

Wesker shouted, “You were the COLLECTOR!” The head was slammed backward again, and a gurgling sound escaped the agent’s now bloodied mouth, the body spasming against the tyrant’s hold. “Did you enjoy watching them FUCK me?!!” Another brutal crack. “Did you get hard watching me suffer in AGONY as they ripped me OPEN AGAIN AND AGAIN?!”

Wesker was seething, spittle flying with each accusation as he looked upon the mess in his fist that used to be Agent Sparrow’s head, the body he was pressed against jerking violently in its death throes. Wesker was indifferent upon the mush of bone, skin, and hair he clenched his fist around, disappointed that he did not make the agent’s death longer.

With the agent no longer amongst the living, Wesker took a shuddering breath as he felt only slight relief to have taken down a couple of those on his kill list. Wesker let the pulp that used to be the agent's head go; a sigh escaped Wesker’s mouth as he stepped back and let the body drop. Wesker leaned down slightly to wipe some of the blood off his hands onto the once immaculate uniform.

However, there was still one more. One of those who had dared violate him. The one who had pitied him. Wesker’s face contorted viciously, body trembling at the thought of facing the worst of his rapists. The one who actually made it not hurt. If any other BSAA members saw him at this moment, they would forever shake in fear at the raw fury that rolled off Wesker in waves.

Almost halfway across the facility, traveling several twists and turns had brought Wesker deeper into the bowels of enemy territory. Wesker could now faintly hear the crying of infants echoing along the hallways; they were very young and in great distress. The cries resonated with Wesker on a transcending level that he could not fully comprehend, and their sounds and scents caused his mind to overload with turmoil. This was what his blood was propelling him towards, the overwhelming instinct to protect his brood. They knew he was there, that he was coming for them, and they were begging him to save them with their bloodcurdling cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wesker's like a fucking shark and can smell shit a mile away. Also, no children will be injured in this story or any other story I write.
> 
> So you may or may not remember, but there was 12 present for Wesker’s assault, three of which I did not name in Chapter 2 of Desecration, but I had names set aside to include to use at a later date, one of which is used here.


	3. The Unintended Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker came upon a reinforced door that had a small window, and before running in, he wanted to be certain exactly what he would be walking into. Peering into the corner as to not be noticed by whoever may be inside, his eyes darted in disbelief at what looked to be a modified nursery and almost collapsed.
> 
> Not only did he see his antagonist, but he watched two scientists shuffling around what seemed to be two small infants who were rightfully upset and frightened. Past this were several tubes in what he knew to be mock wombs from the data he had already collected on Free Arcadia’s bioweapon experimentation developed from his stolen DNA.
> 
> Wesker stepped to the side, pressing his back tightly against the wall next to the door. He closed his eyes, trying to take controlled breaths as his heart sped out of control, threatening to burst through his chest as sweat encompassed his entire body.

“Sparrow!! Lonnie!!! Report!!”

Agent Grimes spat into the radio with irritated concern. They were too far away to be encountering any of the BSAA scum infiltrating the facility. They needed to get the specimens and get the fuck out of there. “Sparrow… Lonnie!! Where the fuck are you two?! Fucking damn it!” Agent Grimes paced outside the nursery laboratory, staring down the distant hallway but still no reply from the radio. However, indistinct sounds echoed down to where Grimes was pacing. Sounds that were not quite human. That could mean only one thing. “Fuck!”

Receiving no response, Grimes turned tail to head back towards the nursery. Sparrow and Lonnie were lost causes, a small sacrifice. Grimes imagined the video feed was still running, everything being recorded offsite for further interpretation by the security team.

Wearily Grimes knew they were wasting time and needed to get out of the facility with the twins. Storming his way back into the large laboratory, bursting through the heavily situated door, only to be met by the sound of screaming infants. “What the fuck is taking you fucks so fucking long?! Tranq the brats and let’s go! We need to get the hell out of here!”

Two lowly scientists scrambled around the labs, stumbling over each other, trying to get everything they needed to move the twins to a safer location away from the prying eyes of the BSAA infiltrators.

Once the word was passed down the counterattack had failed, majority of personnel fled except for the two now running around, downloading databases and wiping clean as many hard drives as they could. Despite knowing the attack and counterattack was forthcoming, the scientists had carried on with their work, expecting no disruptions. However, Free Arcadia was not expecting the BSAA to have a fucking tyrant with them and an intelligent, extremely pissed one at that. A certain blonde who had a good reason to tear everything apart.

Despite his apprehension after finding out who the tyrant was, Agent Grimes was in a state of gleeful anticipation and trepidation of being reacquainted with Albert Wesker. Grimes still fantasied about ‘their time together,’ wondering what the brutalized tyrant had been up to the past year only to discover the blonde monstrosity was alive, well, and apparently stronger than ever and working for the BSAA.

Grimes had created different scenarios with the desecrated tyrant over the past several months. Some similar to the brutal attack that he had participated in, others where Wesker was a willing participant, others not so much. All the same, Grimes always came out on top, regardless of how much the tyrant fought against the events or not.

Knowing full well that Albert Wesker would not take kindly to their reacquaintance, Grimes still could not help but wonder what would happen upon meeting the blonde again. Would it be his death? Likely. But that is the job of a soldier, kill or be killed. Grimes chuckled and smirked, ‘Fuck I’ve been doing this shit way too long. If I make it out of this shit storm, I’m retiring.’

Grimes had received word that the tyrant had gone on a blood rage and had destroyed their assaulting forces after their BOWs failed to take down the main attacking BSAA infiltrators. He was not surprised the prototype BOWs were useless, which is why these pitiful scientists were scrambling to transport their most successful specimens to date. A healthy pair of twins, one male and one female, almost exact replicas of the blonde tyrant, who were screaming at the top of their lungs and writhing in their transport carriers.

At the sound of gunshots echoing from down the hallway, Grimes jerked towards the laboratory door, rifle partially raised, “Fuck.” Gritting his teeth at the scientists' slowness and the high-pitched squeal of the infants, Grimes could not help but want to just shoot the scientists and take off with the babes himself. Fuck the drives and data.

Except he never got the chance as a smoky figure knocked past him. Grimes lost his balance, stumbling and falling from the abrupt, violent movement. Even before Grimes collided harshly with the floor, the shadowy entity had grabbed one of the scientists shuffling about by the head and had smashed the man into the floor, skull first, splattering blood, brain matter, and bone shards everywhere. Some of the blood having splattered several feet against the scientist’s cohort’s khaki pants from the intensity of the impact.

Within a breath, the same treatment was blessed upon the other scientist who had two syringes in one hand and had been mid-step towards the infants, to only have seconds to process his coworker was a splattered mess all over the floor before he too was a smear against the laminate flooring.

Their deaths transpired in a matter of seconds.

The only noises now in the nursey was the harsh breathing of the unhinged tyrant who was now crouched at a standstill, unmoving, and Grimes’ breaths through the filtered mask he wore. Grimes observed the two deceased scientists, barely comprehending what just occurred. The infants were now eerily silent minus their gurgling of wonderment at the arrival of their guardian.

The blonde tyrant snapped his head towards Grimes, the grinding of bone loud enough for the agent to hear from the rapid movement. Pure rage vibrated off the crouched figure, sclera black making the pulsing white irises even more prominent as a sudden vicious snarl echoed through the lab, and a pulse of energy knocked Grimes several feet back.

.....

As Wesker made his way down several hallways, the cries were getting increasingly louder. He encountered a handful of agents at one of the junctions in the maze of corridors, and shots rang after him, but he dodged them easily, taking out the troupe within seconds, his brain on autopilot as he tried to stifle the turmoil of emotions that threatened to tear him apart.

Wesker came upon a reinforced door that had a small window, and before running in, he wanted to be certain exactly what he would be walking into. Peering into the corner as to not be noticed by whoever may be inside, his eyes darted in disbelief at what looked to be a modified nursery and almost collapsed.

Not only did he see his antagonist, but he watched two scientists shuffling around what seemed to be two small infants who were rightfully upset and frightened. Past this were several tubes in what he knew to be mock wombs from the data he had already collected on Free Arcadia’s bioweapon experimentation developed from his stolen DNA.

Wesker stepped to the side, pressing his back tightly against the wall next to the door. He closed his eyes, trying to take controlled breaths as his heart sped out of control, threatening to burst through his chest as sweat encompassed his entire body. He needed to move, but he felt frozen to the wall until a particularly loud cry caused his eyes to snap open, anger propelling him through the door at a speed he could barely comprehend.

Wesker ignored the agent as his eyes locked onto the scientist closest to the infants and gripped the man’s head, and slammed it down to smash against the floor, blood splattering around him and covering his face with gore and bits of bone and gray matter. Whirling at breakneck speed, Wesker took in the second scientist. Seeing the syringes in hand, the tyrant’s lips pulled back over sharp teeth menacingly and paid him the same death blow as the first.

Wesker swept his eyes between the two twitching bodies to ensure they would not be rising again to hurt his brood any further. Wesker realized how silent the lab was, the infants no longer screaming and only making small gurgles.

It was then Wesker picked up the other sound. That of familiar huffing breaths through a gas mask and the scent of his antagonist almost overwhelmed him like a sucker punch sending him into a boiling rage as he jerked his head towards the agent, teeth bared, a vicious snarl echoing across the expanse of the lab. This piece of human waste needed to cease existing, one who had been his tormentor in so many twisted incapacitating nightmares that would leave him haunted for days.

Wesker still had not mastered all his new enhanced abilities but was able to send out a pulse strong enough to knock the agent back as he started raising the muzzle of his rifle. In a heartbeat, Wesker had pounced, wrenching both arms to pop from their sockets, causing the agent to scream, the rifle hanging uselessly against the agent’s chest, the only thing stopping it from clattering to the floor was the shoulder sling as Wesker easily dragged the agent across the expanse of the lab and tossed the man through the laboratory doorway and partially down the long hallway.

Breathless from the confrontation and slightly overwhelmed at the new abilities to sense these tiny humans from such a far range, Wesker could not help but stand rigid, wide-eyed, soaking them both in. It was unnerving actually, for them to have such an effect on him. They were all his brain could focus on since he had felt something urge him towards their source, minus the imminent confrontation of another antagonist. The consuming pull that he needed to get here, get to them.

Wesker stood close enough now to the suddenly quiet infants to see them but not close enough to peer over their mock bassinets. Clear ‘boxes’ with a thin blanket under them, clad only in diapers. It was not quite warm in the lab, and Wesker could only imagine they must have been uncomfortably cold. They were so incredibly tiny and fragile-looking, Wesker’s battered mind offered a distinctive term, ‘premie.’

Apprehensive in approaching them further, panic started to trickle down his spine. Wesker had no clue what to even do at this point. Never had he had to deal with such a situation of dealing with children in this stage of life. Wesker could not leave them here either. They were human, mostly, that much he could tell. Slowly, he crept closer until he was hovering over them.

Wesker’s panic stopped as a sudden sense of protectiveness overcame him as he made eye contact for the first time. True eye contact. Blue-gray met blazing golden, and there was a silent exchange as the two small infants immediately imprinted on Wesker. And he unconsciously on them. Their DNA sang to each other in recognition despite Wesker’s upgraded tyrant virus, the infants still contained his base DNA.

Wesker slowly brought his hands up and held them, shaking above them but noticing how dirty he was from all the blood, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists, dropping them back to his sides rigidly. Clenching his eyes shut, he couldn’t bring himself to touch them, he was too tainted, and it had nothing to do with the blood covering his hands.

Wesker tore his eyes away from his progeny to sweep the lab, and his stomach lurched like he was situated on a tumbling roller coaster. The lab was massive, and it was filled with rows and rows of mock wombs. He stumbled away from the bassinets to inspect some of the closer rows to find embryos in various stages of growth and of varying degrees of spliced DNA, some more monstrous than others. Wesker ran his hands down one of the tubes to see what looked to be an almost normally forming fetus except what appeared to be spikes growing along its spine.

Wesker jerked away and almost tripped over his own feet as he stepped back towards the infants, who were oddly tracking his form as he shifted about the lab. Wesker snapped his eyes towards them again and locked onto those silent intelligent, knowing eyes. Wesker was completely unnerved, and he had no fucking clue where to even start.

Wesker did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed his radio, and in a panicked, almost whisper, called for Jill to respond. Despite no response yet, he kept on talking as fast as he could, describing what he was seeing, what he had found that had been calling to him and that he could not process what his next steps should be.

Jill finally answered, already past the 10 minutes Wesker had asked for her to come find him. Wesker kept rambling on as he shuffled between the tubes, staring at all the atrocities that had been created with his DNA. Wesker could not help questioning out loud if this was their only facility. It couldn’t be. The security was minimal at best this far into the bowels of the facility. It made no sense. Why abandon so much work? Wesker couldn’t help the stray thought, “Is this a trap? Jill, is this a fucking trap??!!”

Wesker swung himself, eyes wide to scan the whole lab again. It looked highly sophisticated enough, but it didn’t explain why there were so few guards.

No. This was just a tiny piece. Wesker had been right here on the other side with Umbrella. This was but a small part of Free Arcadia’s operations. “Fuck… Jill… This is—!!”

But Wesker was not able to get out his next words as he felt an anti-BOW round hit him right where his old injury had been, and in quick subsequent, another as he instantly collapsed to one knee roaring at the unexpected agony. The rounds pierced exactly where his pelvis and hip had been so severely damaged prior that he believed he would have been a cripple forever, that is until he stabilized his virus.

Wesker tossed his head back, screaming as he fell forward to his hands, his leg giving out. Clenching the radio in his fist, almost crushing it as his hands spasmed, he could hear Jill yelling on the other end. Wesker’s keened as he bowed forward in slight shock, trying not to fall into a vicious flashback. Wesker could feel it on the edge of his field of vision, and he could not afford to let it overwhelm him. Snarling viciously as his body tried to heal the grievous wound and gritting his teeth to stop any further cries of torment, he forced his mind to stay in the present.

The infant's sudden piercing cries pulled him out of the pit of blackness he was trying not to cascade into, and he could not help but yell out at his attacker, registering that he was too close to the babes if the agent decided to take another shot, “Stop! You’ll hit the babies!”

Wesker was glad the shots had hit him and had not gone through him. He could feel his skin and insides melting from the specialized rounds, his healing stunted, an unpleasant reminder along with the scent of his rapist, causing his mind to boil in rage. Wesker chastised himself that he really needed a better fix for anti-BOW round injuries as he was out of syringes.

Wesker wrenched his head back towards the guard, who had somehow, apparently, popped one of his shoulders back in enough to aim his rifle at Wesker and target the old injury site. The agent had taken off his mask, and Wesker was finally able to put a face to his attacker. Wesker snarled loudly, blood flying as he sauntered away from the infants to charge at his antagonist despite the gratuitous injury.

Having taken as much damage as he had, more round lodged in his gut, causing him to stumble as he barreled into the agent as he punched the man’s chest hard enough to crush several ribs on one side, damaging the lung and causing blood to shoot out the agent’s mouth and nose. The man ended up being flung further down the hallway from the vicious blow.

Wesker took in gasping breaths as he slowly made his way down the hall, hunched over slightly. The agent groaned loudly and then chucked as he lay on the floor, watching Wesker's menacing approach. The sound threw Wesker completely off guard, and he was certainly not expecting the agent’s next words, “You… clean up nice… though I liked… how you were… last time… much better.”

Wesker just kept gaping at the guard incredulously, amazed that this man did not fear him or his impending death, and kept talking shit. The agent knew full well he was going to die at the tyrant’s hand, but it was obvious he loved the effect he had on the blonde, who stood hunched over frozen, a horrified uncomprehending look on his face. The expression caused the agent to chuckle louder.

Wesker started to hyperventilate, the man’s smell bringing back so many unwanted memories, swirling emotions playing across his grime-covered features, all the while trying to glare at the man’s grinning sneer, who licked his lips at Wesker’s tear-stained blood-splattered enraged face.

“Oh, those tears… make you… look so pretty… so fuckable...”

Wesker was shocked at the audacity of this man, who was dying at his feet, yet continued to speak rubbish.

Fury consuming him, and Wesker jerked the agent up who had been gazing up at him from his resting place on the ground to slam him up against the wall by his neck, causing the man to choke up more blood. Except the agent was still goading Wesker, who was now beyond enraged.

“I wouldn’t mind… another go at you… you were so perfect… I think about you… all the time… About all the things… I want to do to you… would do…”

His antagonist dragged his eyes down Wesker’s body to gawk at the tyrant’s crotch, obvious what the agent was thinking, as he made a lusty moan.

Wesker could not help BUT to imagine the possibilities running through the man’s head, and it made him violently sick, and he tried to stop his body from compacting to dry heave. The unexpected violent reflex caused Wesker to loosen his grip on the agent, allowing the man to take some of his own weight on shaking legs.

An arm angled towards Wesker's waistline as if to grope, and the tyrant gripped the appendage with violent intent, causing the agent to grunt loudly as the arm was twisted away from the tyrant’s body.

Wesker’s whispering voice shook, “Look at me.” But the agent kept looking down, a lecherous look spreading across his face as he continued to stare at Wesker’s crotch.

Wesker couldn’t take it. He wanted this man to fear him, and yet he just kept taunting, antagonize Wesker even more, taking away the triumph of destroying one of his rapists, “LOOK AT ME, YOU SICK FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!”

The agent dragged his eyes back up, smiling gleefully at how unhinged Wesker was.

“How I want... to fuck… that pretty mouth of yours... Make you choke on my cock… Cum all over you—!!”

Grimes was not able to get out the rest of his fantasy as Wesker jettisoned a black scaled claw up between the agent’s legs, effectively pulverizing the man’s genitals and grabbing onto any organ in his path only to wrench his arm back downward violently, ripping out stomach, intestines, and other mess of the agent’s abdominal cavity that his arm had crushed on its way in.

Grimes violently trembled in shock, and despite being gutted, again, grinned with red-tinged teeth at the blazing suns of the tyrant’s pulsing eyes before him.

“Oh, I remember… the sounds you made… fucking slut whore... Don’t even lie… you loved… every inch of my cock… you came… twice… you loved it… fucking slut…”

Wesker was shocked into silence, helpless tears of rage running through the several layers of blood splatter and dirt, and then extreme loathing as he smashed the agent’s body into the floor as hard as he could, if only to stop the sound of the agent’s voice, and the huffing breaths that were so hauntingly familiar.

Wesker wept as he smashed his fist into the body, his revenge leaving him feeling empty and his conviction shattered. Regardless of the agent’s death, the parting words swirled in Wesker’s head, causing doubt to creep into his broken memories, unable to remember if he had truly found it pleasurable or not.

.....

That was how Jill found him. Punching the concrete floor where the guard’s body had been except it was just a crater of blood and pulverized meat.

“Wesker! WESKER!! ALBERT!!! For Fucks Sake, ALBERT STOP!!”

It took Jill several times to get the blonde to hear her over his agonized sounds. Wesker shot his head towards her and the few BSAA soldiers she had thought to bring with her. Wesker’s breaths grew more intense, eyes darting over the small group trying to comprehend why they were there. Jill could see the start of the panic attack coming a mile away, and as much as she hated to do this, they didn’t have time for it.

The best she could with a commanding voice, she kept him grounded, keeping the worst of the panic at bay as he collapsed to his hands and knees next to the crater, almost convulsing but no longer smashing his fists into the floor. She imagined that he must have been breaking his hands over and over based on the sizable indentation he had made.

She dared not reach out or touch him, not after Wesker had almost attacked her when they were saving Chris, and the fact he had tossed Piers like a rag doll, she wasn’t risking it. She kept talking him through the panic until she was able to get him up to stumble away from the mess he had left of the agent and back into the lab.

Jill could hear the babies Wesker had been telling her about before he had been cut off. They were very upset, and they were making it known to whoever could hear them. Keeping Wesker in sight as he limped towards the crying babes, she watched wearily as he came into their line of sight, and they almost instantly stopped crying.

Jill stood stock still, face twisted in confusion, ‘What the fuck…’ She watched him lean over each infant, staring at them as he huffed out ragged breaths but not touching them. Jill was mystified, there was a lot more going on here, and Wesker was at the center of it all.

What was Free Arcadia trying to accomplish? Why leave obviously enhanced genetically bred babes with two scientists and a handful of guards? Didn’t they know they were coming? Maybe they didn’t know about Wesker stabilizing and enhancing his tyrant virus.

Shuffling it all aside for now, she glanced at the tyrant and wrinkled her nose, “Wesker, you need to get out of that top. There’s a sink over there. Wash up. I’ll find you something to wear.” At the sound of her voice, his body jolted as if he had forgotten she was even there. Turning towards her wearily, he leaned in on himself slightly, and that was when she noticed the several oozing wounds he had accumulated that were not healing.

Coming closer, she took her first look at the babes and sucked a breath in. She stared up at Wesker, who looked incredibly exhausted, an almost tortured look on his face, and then back down at them. The resemblance was as obvious as day. These infants were at least partially genetically related to Wesker on some level. The light hair and blue-gray eyes spoke for themselves. Jill could not help the exasperated huff as she glanced around the lab, internally cursing, "Shit. This is certainly much more complicated than we ever imagined."

.....

Wesker stood close to the bassinets, trembling slightly, and he jerked slightly when Jill handed him a syringe of his protective formula. He immediately looked down, only now just feeling the anti-BOW round damage that had accumulated. Wesker took the syringe from her hand with shaking fingers and shuffled away to brace himself on a nearby counter. He sank the injection immediately into his flank, baring his teeth as he arched his head back, eyes closed. The anti-BOW round damage more severe than he had anticipated as he felt his body expel the poison and start to knit his flesh back together.

Sighing in relief as he felt the wounds slowly close, he shifted his eyes between Jill as she moved around the lab, seemingly taking a quick inventory of the rest of the specimens, and the babes, who kept their eerily familiar eyes on him, like twin sentinels, ensuring he doesn’t leave their presence again.

Realizing that he was a complete and utter mess, shirt no longer worth wearing, Jill’s words finally made sense, and he slowly made his way over to the sink she mentioned and turned the water on as hot as it would go. Wesker felt so incredibly filthy, and it had nothing to do with the blood and grime covering him, the agent’s words shaking him to his core, making him doubt everything he thought he remembered from the assault.

Using the soap available, he scrubbed as much as he could, face, arms, hands, torso now bare, and kept scrubbing even after all the blood and grime had washed down the drain. A sudden noise erupted to rouse him from his internal battle. It almost sounded like white noise, except it was a voice. Searching for it, he realized it was Jill. She was shushing the infants as they started to become irritated again with the absence of their guardian.

Wesker watched Jill over his shoulder as he continued to scrub his skin raw, mesmerized, and glad that he had called her, very obvious she had some experience with children. He watched as she put on latex gloves before handling them further, her hands not being so clean either. Wesker could tell she was being gentle, or there would be more sounds of distress. There were only quiet, inquisitive noises as they jerked their tiny limbs about.

Suddenly, a black shirt was in his line of vision, and he jerked away from the soldier who was handing it to him. Still scrubbing, he motioned his head to the counter, where the soldier nodded and placed it for him when he was done trying to scour his skin off. Wesker returned his gaze to Jill and the infants, weary of what will ultimately be decided of what they had found.

Jill flashed a small smile at the babes, and she snatched her eyes up to Wesker, who was still standing at the sink, dripping from his improvised shower, staring uneasily at the trio. She turned her attention back to the infants, calling out to him, “Finish up and come over.”

Wesker turned the tap off, no longer scrubbing the intense disgust off himself despite him still feeling it there under his skin. Silently, he checked his newly healed wounds, spending more time on the one to his old injury on the right side of his lower back. Despite there being smooth skin once again, he ran a hand over the discolored flesh, feeling the ghostly pains regardless. Wesker found a towel to dry off with and quickly adorned the black shirt. Once dressed, he took his time to slowly makes his way back over to the squirming infants.

Jill held one of the tiny beings, slowly rocking them as he could not pinpoint their sex. Jill watched him in silence as he crept closer. She presented the child to him, and Wesker could not help but step back in fear, raising his hands up in defense, “I’m … I can’t.”

Jill moved towards him as he stepped back until he was stopped by a counter at his back. She gently presented him the child again, “You will.”

Wesker could not mask the anxiety of touching this tiny person, he already knew exactly what the child was, and he hesitated, “But…”

Jill sighed irritably, slightly scowling at him, “Wesker, I know what you’re thinking, and though we don’t agree on most things, you are no more soiled than any of us here.”

Wesker gaped at her in exasperated shock, whispering, “You’re wrong.”

Jill, just as stubborn, retorted heatedly, “I’m **not**.”

They stared at each other for several moments, a silent battle of wills, the infant between them. They never did discuss what had happened those two years. A topic they both avoided. It was certainly coming at any rate but not here or now. With a stern look only Jill could manifest at the blonde tyrant, she raised her brows and gave a small reassuring smile.

Wesker’s gaze dropped down uncertainly to the tiny eyes taking him in full of inquisitive wonder. With hands shaking, Wesker held them out to receive the child, in which Jill gently placed the tiny human into his arms, and it only took a breath for Wesker to melt instantly. His face cracking into a grimace as he tried to withhold the tears that ultimately trailed down his cheeks silently. Quietly, to no one in particular, he muttered, “They’re my… they’re mine.” Taking in a breath, he tried again to get out what he already knew, “They’re me, Jill. They’re me…”

Wesker somehow knew there was no other donor. The sophistication of genetic manipulation absolute. They were not quite clones, but his genetic code spliced likely from the most optimal set of genes from his DNA that had been so brutally taken from him.

Wesker had rarely ever held children, much less an infant; however, he was smitten with a protective infatuation for this tiny thing in his arms that fussed at him. Warm and wiggling and oh so alive and innocent and pure. Something he never felt he had or was worthy of, and he would do everything in his power to protect that innocence. Maybe it was their shared blood. Or maybe it was the circumstances of their discovery. So very familiar to his own institutionalized upbringing; alas, he silently vowed then and there he would give his life for them.

Wesker could not stop the infatuation he felt staring at the child. He was so enraptured he did not hear Jill’s incessant shouting or the automated voice indicating there was a self-destruct sequence activation. “Wesker, we need to go! Now!”

Slowly turning towards her with a dazed look, she had to yell at him repetitively until the light bulb in his head finally turned on, “We need to get the fuck out of here, Wesker! Now! Go! AND DO NOT SHADOW RUN WITH HER!” Wesker was thankful for Jill’s insight despite the rude screaming as the child, apparently female, made a noise of protest at the loud sounds and strobing lights.

The handful of BSAA agents who had followed Jill were packing up what they could as Jill situated the other infant, looking at him expectantly, ready to go.

Wesker looked around the now half-destroyed lab, the soldiers having been busy gathering data and sabotaging the tanks. An unknown number of his progeny in different development stages displayed crudely in their mock wombs, their voices silent. Some normal, others obviously not, and an overwhelming sorrow crashed over Wesker’s shoulders. A sense of incomprehensible loss yet at the same time relief that this facility would be destroyed. It was one small step in their goal to take down Free Arcadia. Yet, it was only a small victory.

Taking one last look, he turned and followed behind Jill, who held the other infant protectively. One soldier brought up the rear behind him as he held the child close to his chest as he ran. He tried his best not to jostle her more than need be to get back to the exit and out of the building before it exploded.

Fear suddenly froze Wesker’s heart, and he almost stumbled as they made their way through the maze of hallways.

Chris.

Chris would hate him forever for what he did to him. Stealing his humanity and trapping him in a broken body forever. And the pup would never let him live down abandoning his lover, his mate. Jill might forgive him, but he would never be able to forgive himself for his selfishness. Choking down a sob as the group made it back to where they had their original standoff, Wesker tried but failed to avoid looking at the now darkened blood spread across the floor that was Chris’s.

There were only a few vehicles left and one helicopter. Jill shouted at the other soldiers and directed them to take the trucks. Grabbing onto his sleeve, Jill steered Wesker towards the helicopter.

Following alongside her with their delicate charges, Wesker twisted his head around, panicking, “Where’s Chris?!”

Jill turned her eyes up at him sternly, “They took him back about 5 minutes after you took off, now stop dragging your feet and get on the damn bird. We need to get the fuck out of here, NOW!” Jill climbed into the helo first, handing the infant to one of the soldiers who seemed very unprepared to hold the tiny child. She turned and took the infant from Wesker as he made his way up to shuffle up alongside her.

Quickly the other infant was deposited into Wesker’s arms from the soldier, and he could not help the anguished look as he could not help but compare the two. They were practically identical. Wesker was at a complete loss and slightly distraught. So, many incomprehensible things had happened this day.

Wesker had almost lost Chris, and in his attempt to save him, may have destroyed their relationship, ruining any potential there may have been to live their lives together comfortable and content with one another. However, he had also discovered and saved the babes, changing their fate and giving them a second chance other than whatever Free Arcadia had planned for them.

Glancing at the other infant in Jill’s arms nervously, who was almost asleep, he silently declared that he would protect them for as long as he was capable. He didn’t want what happened to him to happen to them, and he wanted them to have as normal lives as possible.

Wesker didn’t flinch when the helo shook from the massive explosion as they made their way back to base. He was too infatuated and cradling the child, who was now contently napping. Unconsciously, Wesker had leaned down to nuzzled his nose lightly across the pale hair, taking in the child’s scent and further solidifying their bond as he memorized it. Not realizing he was doing it, Wesker had started a low purr, causing the infant to smile and relax more into his warmth.

Sighing nervously, maybe, just maybe there was a second chance for him as well.

.....

Jill could not help but equate the look on Wesker’s face to that of an apprehensive first-time father. Which he kind of was, as it was obvious at the uncanny resemblance and his announcement that these children were created solely from his DNA. Jill was not sure how he knew that but he was an enhanced BOW, so she imagined he knew deep down on an unconscious level, this was the truth.

Jill sighed as she continued to observe the blonde. He would be facing some big hurdles soon once they arrived back. Piers had messaged Jill that Chris was in surgery, and the prognosis was not looking good. But she had already known that. She had been fighting bioterrorism for a long, long time, and she knew the extent of the damage was too severe to save any of Chris’s mangled limbs.

She was incredibly worried about her partner. Jill knew how deeply Chris felt for Wesker, and though he may have never admitted it, she knew they were a truly bonded pair. Nothing would come between them, but this would certainly test their relationship; however, Jill had faith things would work out. If the 10 years of betrayal and fighting didn’t keep them apart, this wouldn’t either.

Jill was glad that, despite the crudeness of Wesker’s actions, she was relieved that Chris survived. If Chris had died, they would probably all be fighting an unhinged, incredibly powerful tyrant with nothing to lose. But Chris was alive, and Wesker was mostly in control of himself.

Maybe it was because of how she found him, beating the floor where a man’s body should have been, weeping at his empty victory, or maybe Chris shared a little too much of who Wesker really was. She did not feel pity for him, but she understood trauma. A lot of them did. And from what she had learned, Wesker did not have the peachy life she always imagined he had, and for that, she could not hold him 100% accountable for his actions, mostly but not all of it, desperate and despicable as they were.

Nonetheless, Wesker had saved her life many times over the years, even in the midst of delusional grandeur, and watching his desperation as Chris lay dying before him, showed her who he truly was and where his heart lay. Wesker was just as human as the rest of them, having found love and acceptance in Chris’s embrace, and he risked everything to keep Chris by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bitch to write. I’ve been staring at this since I finished chapter 2 in mid-Sep.
> 
> Alas, I can’t have Wesker having a happy victory every time he confronts an antagonist now can I? Sometimes revenge can be empty and the power we think we have can be meaningless in the face of an adversary who doesn’t give a fuck about the rules of engagement.
> 
> Can I add the “Daddy Wesker” tag now? Like legit Wesker being a dad… having a family and all the shenanigans of being an unintentional father.


	4. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love your brother.”
> 
> Claire looked exacerbated at the confession, “You have a funny way of showing it!”
> 
> Wesker abandoned trying to keep his voice down, unable to curb his own rising anger, “I saved his life!”
> 
> Claire retorted just as loudly, face red, hands up in the air, “By turning him into a monster like you?!”
> 
> Wesker flinched, unable to stop the look of internalized guilt that caused his face to crumble, just shy of breaking, the knot in his throat almost choking him. The change obvious to the two women even with the dark shades in place. In a fierce whisper, he hissed, “You think I don’t realize that?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have normally tried to keep multiple POVs from overlapping in previous chapters but with this one, I don’t care, too much is going on.

Everything was a blur once they arrived back to base in DC. Despite the tiny person in his arms, Wesker’s overwhelming fear of not knowing Chris’s condition overshadowed every step.

A team had been put together at Jill’s command to take the infants and make sure they were healthy and received full-around clock security. Wesker was reluctant to let the twins out of his sight, but many of the medical staff he knew and trusted as they handed the twins off.

Wesker knew no one would dare hurt the infants. They would have to face Wesker’s and Jill’s anger if something were to happen.

After watching the babies be wheeled away in a shared crib, Wesker allowed his concern for where Chris was to overwhelm his senses. He menacingly paced the halls of the large hospital facility until arriving in the trauma center, able to smell the newly infected blood of his lover. Jill finally caught up, slightly breathless. Even without using speed, Wesker covered the large distance easily.

Jill yelled, trying to catch Wesker from barging into the clean space, “Please, Wesker stop, he’s still in surgery. Piers is watching over him. We need to wait.”

Wesker turned on her, expression panicked, obviously upset regarding Chris’s condition now that the infants were in safe hands, “I need to see him! To know he’s alright.” Wesker was a filthy mess, looking out of place in the area where they had abruptly stopped with doctors and nurses rushing by in scrubs and white coats.

Jill put her hands up as a cajoling gesture, which Wesker saw straight through, “Wesker, Chris will be fine. He’s in much better shape than what you were in when you first arrived. However, I’ll admit Chris would not let you leave his sight. Watched over you the entire time.”

The words were meant to relax Wesker, but it did the opposite as his face blanched, “What?!”

Jill looked confused, trying to shuffle him out of the busy hallway and towards the reception area, “Chris never told you?”

Wesker allowed her to lead him away, wide-eyed with this apparently new information, “No… not that I can remember.”

Wesker just gawked at her, face white, maybe Chris did, and he had forgotten, his memory not exactly reliable from that period of his life. Mostly a blur of anguish and pain to him, especially dealing with the flashbacks that seemed to be unending.

Jill was surprised, “Chris watched you through all your surgeries. Barely left your side, and if he couldn’t be in with you, he watched from above. The few times I saw him during my own recovery, he looked so worried. I’ve never seen him like that, not even with Claire.”

Wesker wasn’t sure what to say or how to react, so he just kept silent, pacing the small waiting area. He had allowed Jill to manipulate him to wait, understanding he could not just walk into the middle of a surgery. Not that Chris wouldn’t be fine, having acquired at least some of the healing his virus had to offer. Germs would not have been a problem, but Wesker was not one for making a ruckus right now despite how high strung he was.

Jill watched him for several minutes, arms crossed. Wesker ignored her as he paced, switching between running his hands through his hair and over his face. He barely acknowledged her absence when she stepped away to talk to one of the nurses.

Several minutes passed before she reappeared, smiling. Wesker stopped his pacing, waiting for the news she so obviously had acquired. “He’s out of surgery and in recovery. They told me that you could see him. Dropping your names go a long way.”

Wesker quickly asked for the location, and once Jill passed him the small scrap of paper with the room, he booked it at top speed, not sure if he had ever felt so apprehensive about seeing Chris in his life.

.....

Wesker had practically kicked Piers out from the recovery room Chris was situated in, promptly after thanking him with as much gratitude he could muster in his preoccupied state. Wesker stood by Chris’s side, watching over him, who was still under. The doctors had stopped by explaining to Wesker what was done and wanted Chris to rest as long as possible despite the obvious increase to his healing factor.

Chris was bundled up tightly with blankets, but Wesker could see the flat areas where Chris’s legs and left arm should have been, and it broke his heart that his virus could not heal the mangled body parts, only the superficial wounds. He silently watched Chris breathe easily, but everything was just wrong. Nothing will ever be the same.

Wesker was beside him as they moved him to a room in the ICU, glass walls with blinds for easier observation of the busy floor personnel who were taking care of several other BSAA soldiers who had been wounded during the mission.

Wesker’s anger grew as he sat, unmoving from his perch on the chair next to Chris's bed. He knew there must be a mole somewhere, or Free Arcadia had an excellent hacker base. There was no other way to explain how they knew they were coming.

Jill, Piers, and several other people had popped in to see how Chris was doing but had come and gone. They offered Wesker a chance to take a break, but he refused to move from his post. It had been hours of waiting for Wesker to see any movement, and he would wait all night if just to see Chris open his eyes once more.

Suddenly he heard a familiar voice screech at the top of her lungs, calling out Chris’s name, and it startled Wesker so badly he almost fell off the chair he was sitting at the end of. The younger Redfield had arrived, and she was irate.

He distantly remembers Jill saying something about picking someone up, but he had tuned everything out except for the sound of Chris’s breaths and his vitals being monitored on the machines surrounding the bed.

Claire was quiet a moment as she stared at her brother’s prone form, and then her eyes wrenched towards Wesker, filled with contempt. She snarled profanities at him, not caring that he obviously looked like shit, barely having tended to his own needs other than washing his hands and face.

Wesker stepped forward instinctually to protect his unconscious lover from the hostile force that was Claire Redfield, who menacingly stepped right up to him to point in his face that this was all his fault. Wesker did not back down, and his eyes glowed hot white through the dark shades in his barely held back irritation that had been boiling for hours.

Jill tried to ease the tension by putting a hand on Claire’s shoulder, but it was immediately brushed off, “Get the fuck out, Wesker!” She tried to shift past him, and he stepped with the movement to block her from moving forward, making her even more livid. “You fucking bastard! Why would you do this??! Why are you even here?!”

Wesker stood rigid, fists clenched at his sides, incredibly pissed at her rambunctiousness, but he wasn’t going to lie to her, “I **love** your brother.”

Claire looked exacerbated at the confession, “You have a funny way of showing it!”

Wesker abandoned trying to keep his voice down, unable to curb his own rising anger, “I saved his life!”

Claire retorted just as loudly, face red, hands up in the air, “By turning him into a monster like you?!”

Wesker flinched, unable to stop the look of internalized guilt that caused his face to crumble, just shy of breaking, the knot in his throat almost choking him. The change obvious to the two women even with the dark shades in place. In a fierce whisper, he hissed, “You think I don’t realize that?!”

Claire was crying outright, pointing an accusing finger in his face, quieter, realizing they had been screaming at each other, “Then why did you do it!”

Tears bubbled up in Wesker’s eyes, hidden from view, unable to stop them. Wesker had been trying to keep down his internalized battle he had been keeping at bay for hours, but not able to stop as he started to slip, “I couldn’t let him die. I couldn’t let him leave **ME** here in this wretched place alone!! I didn’t think… I didn’t know this would happen!”

Wesker wasn’t dumb by any means, but Claire didn’t believe him for a second, “You knew what would happen!”

Wesker’s guilt started to crash down upon him, “I thought he would heal proper!”

Claire attempted to push him away from his position, but Wesker’s strength wouldn’t budge, “Well, he didn’t! And now look at him! Fucking look at him! He’s… He’s… He’s waking up.”

Wesker jerked back to look at Chris, who was starting to rouse, the messy head of silver hair rolling against the pillows, a small noise of discomfort shushing the loud voices.

Wesker immediately stumbled over to the bed and laid a gentle hand on Chris’s cheek, completely ignoring Claire’s angry gasp. She didn’t say anything further, just moved forward to the end of the bed, staring down at her brother.

Wesker lowered himself to whisper into his lover’s ear, anguish causing his voice to waver slightly, “Christopher?”

Muffled noises escaped as Chris brought his hand up shakily to cover Wesker’s on his cheek, grasping it and bringing it to his lips, quietly murmuring, “Albert.”

Wesker removed his shades and dropped the thick plastic to the floor as he leaned forward on the bed to lightly touch his forehead to Chris’s, his frontage crumpling completely as he sobbed, quietly whispering, “I’m so sorry, Chris, I’m so sorry. Please, I didn’t… I didn’t know this would happen.”

Chris still did not open his eyes, just held Wesker’s hand to his mouth, humming sadly, his brows furrowing deeply, taking a shaky breath, “I still feel them.” Swallowing, Chris adjusted his grip on Wesker’s hand, squeezing tighter, “But I know they’re gone.”

Wesker couldn’t stop the downpour as he wept, his tears splattering against Chris’s face, who also couldn’t stop the loud sniffle before he opened tear-filled eyes to stare into Wesker’s agonized face. So much guilt and pain in plain sight, Wesker had been beating himself up for hours upon hours, waiting for Chris to wake up in hopes that he would be forgiven but knowing he did not deserve any forgiveness for what he had done.

Wesker was overjoyed that Chris was alive, but at what price.

Wesker continued his grieving as he looked at Chris’s now silver hair and yellow eyes that held their own internalized glow, “I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry. What I did… I know you’ll never forgive me… please, I’m…” But his lament was cut off as Chris wrapped his arm around Wesker’s neck to bring his face down for a deep kiss, gripping the blonde hair in desperation.

Wesker reached up to intertwine his fingers with Chris’s, pulling back slightly, Wesker whispered against Chris’s lips, “Please, I’m so sorry.” Chris held a moment, searching the blazing eyes filled with tears of regret, and responded just as quiet, “I know. I’m sorry too*.”

.....

At some point, Claire got the message that despite her brother was laying in a hospital bed, a triple amputee, he only had eyes for Wesker. He had not even mentioned her by name, despite it obvious that he heard their arguing. Chris just grabbed onto Wesker like he was a life preserver despite the fact the blonde had done this to him.

Claire huffed at the brunette beside her, “I don’t get it.”

Jill was standing next to her outside the room but looking in to observe the obvious, “It’s simple. They love each other.”

Claire jerked her head towards Jill, irritated with her ignorance of the situation before her, “I still don’t get it. What does Chris see in him? He betrayed you all, led your teammates to their deaths. Fought with Chris and ME. Kidnapped and enslaved YOU, and all of a sudden, they love each other??! It makes no fucking sense!”

Jill stiffened at the mentioning of her ‘enslavement,’ but she knew that it all made perfect sense, despite her own reasons for disliking Wesker. Not a fan of his unconventional sense of going about things, but he still had a heart deep in the murky blackness of his soul, which had slowly brightened over the course of his relationship with Chris.

Regardless of what Claire thought, he had saved Jill’s life after all and now Chris’s, “Claire, you’ll probably never understand, but they had a moment, years back before the mansion. And… and Chris fell in love with him then, though he couldn’t admit it at the time that was what he was feeling. You can’t really pick and choose who you fall in love with. It just… happens.”

Claire stared wide-eyed at Jill, arms folded tightly across her chest, “He never said anything to me about it!”

Jill couldn’t help the chuckle, “Of course not. Would you tell Chris if you were fucking **your** boss, who then betrayed you? Especially the kind of relationship it was back then. The ’90s were not a good time.”

Claire growled, slightly blushing as she looked away from her brother’s room, “Probably not. Though I’ve always known he was bi. That at least he didn’t keep from me, and it didn’t make me love him any less. I didn’t care who he’s with as long as he was happy. And safe!”

Jill sighed sadly, “Chris hated himself for it. For still pining for Wesker after it was all said and done, and it tore him apart for years and years. It’s why he started drinking so much. He went off the wall psycho when he was piss assed drunk. He was a complete and utter mess and why he left Raccoon City so fast.”

Claire scoffed, “He’s always been a mean drunk.”

Jill tisked, “Claire, he was 10 times worse after it. He stayed with me most of the time before he left. Said he couldn’t stand to be in his apartment because Wesker’s smell had permeated everything. He would wake up sobbing in the middle of the night, and I could hear him chugging whatever was in reach just to get a few hours rest.”

“Why was Wesker in his apart—oh God! Never mind. Got it.” Claire huffed, rolling her eyes as she grumbled, not happy with the image her mind conjured.

Claire returned her gaze towards her brother, now unsure of really how to approach everything. The two men seemingly the only two people in existence for them as they held each other desperately. She was weary and worried about Chris, but she felt like she was intruding once he called out for Wesker. That hurt a bit, but she understood there must have been something deeper going on that she didn’t know about. She had found it so odd how Wesker was upfront of how he felt about Chris when Claire asked why he was even there. She didn’t think she ever wanted to understand it. In her eyes, Wesker was a monster.

But she admitted that the way Chris said Wesker’s first name, though, was incredibly unexpected. Claire had never heard anything uttered in such a way. The unspoken longing and need for comfort. She could hardly comprehend it, but it was as plain as day as she watched her brother and his mortal enemy kissing fervently on the other side of the glass like they would be ripped apart at any moment.

Jill continued, “I saw Wesker right after it happened though he was unconscious.”

Claire returned her gaze to Jill, confused, “What are you talking about?”

Jill turned to the younger Redfield, sighing, “I’m guessing Chris didn’t tell you about that either?” Whispering mostly to herself, 'Of course he didn’t.'

Jill looked old then, remembering the event following her liberation, “Claire… Claire, Wesker was brutally assaulted… it was how we managed to take him into custody and stop his attack.” Jill did not go any further. It was not her place to tell Claire that Wesker had been sexually assaulted during the attack. That would be an incredible breach of trust and may damage their mutual relationships with Chris at the center.

Claire gasped, swinging her head back towards the blonde who was on his knees next to her brother's bed, “What?!”

Jill continued, “Chris found him right after. It was… I would never wish what happened to him on anyone. Even with all the terrible things Wesker had done, what they did to him was so incredibly vicious. Never had I ever seen him so badly injured Claire, and he was a powerful tyrant in his own right at that point, but they used specialized rounds on him. Almost lost a leg himself if it wasn’t for his virus and Chris’s quick action.”

Claire looked back at the brunette, brows furrowed, “Whose they?”

Jill looked down to scruff her feet, “A new organization birthed from the downfall of Tricell. Or created alongside it, we’re not sure. We believe that his assault had been planned for months, if not years. Wesker knew absolutely nothing about it. If he did, he probably would have dropped Tricell in a heartbeat and disappeared.”

Jill watched Claire’s face as she observed the couple who seemed to be engaged in a fairly serious topic, talking quietly. Chris’s white-knuckled grip on Wesker’s shirt evidence of his reluctance to let the blond tyrant go. “He never mentioned any of this. Why would he not tell me, Jill? He told me he was in a relationship with a guy named Albert but never in a million years would I think it would be Albert fucking Wesker!”

Jill almost had to smirk, staring at them, having come to terms with their relationship long ago and realizing that they really were good for each other, keeping each other in check. Chris didn’t drink, and Wesker didn’t try to destroy the entire human race, “To protect you. And him.”

Claire was still confused, “Protect him? From what?”

Jill couldn’t help the deep laugh, turning her gaze at the young redhead, “From you, of course! What would you have done if he told you?”

Claire huffed, crossing her arms, looking away from the lovebirds, watching the staff rush around helping other patients, “Hunt him down.”

Jill kept grinning, “Exactly.”

Claire shook her head, “How long has this been going on anyway?”

Jill hesitated, rubbing her chin as she tried to do the math, “Well, it’s been maybe two-ish years since bringing Wesker back from Africa. And Chris was Wesker’s handler during his recovery…”

Claire cut her off, “Recovery?”

Jill sighed, peeved that Chris had left Claire in the dark about so much, “Yes, recovery. I told you that Wesker was assaulted. Claire, they almost had to remove his right leg at the hip. He couldn’t walk for weeks, and once he was able to again after grueling therapy, he had to use a cane, his limp was so bad. They had to piece him back together with screws and metal plates… some bones completely shattered. He was a complete mess, even with his advanced healing. Lost quite a lot of intestine too and almost a lung from what Chris told me.”

Claire’s brows furrowed in confusion, “But he looks fine.”

Jill slumped, trying to think of the best way to explain how Chris and Wesker got back together, “Once Wesker was healed some, he was given an ultimatum. Go to prison or work for the BSAA providing all intelligence he had acquired over the years. Of course, he chose the BSAA. After finding out what Free Arcadia was doing with his stolen DNA, he proposed to our leadership to let him fix his virus so he could be fully healed in order to fight this new enemy. Free Arcadia was conducting eugenic experiments from his DNA, creating monsters and hybrids. Wesker was strong before the assault, so anything created from his DNA from that point would have the potential to create similar … BOWs… in his image. Imagine an army of Albert Weskers. Truly horrifying even to the lowest soldier on the totem pole.”

Claire shot back quickly, “Stolen DNA? Do you mean his blood? Or…”

Jill froze, her posture rigid, wrenching her head to stare wide-eyed at Claire, “Fuck! Do not say anything to either of them!”

Jill grabbed one of Claire’s wrists tightly, “Promise me! This is already a delicate situation! I do not need an explosive tyrant trying to rip your head off!”

Claire winced at the pressure as Jill dragged her away from the room. Away from a certain someone’s excellent hearing. Grabbing Claire’s biceps, she pressed her against the wall once they were several doors away from Chris’s room.

Still confused and pissed at the rough handling, Claire’s voice rose, “What do you mean stolen DNA? Jill?! What the fuck?!”

Jill looked incredibly serious at Claire, lips a thin line, a look Claire would not ever want to be on the other end of, “Do **NOT** ever fucking ask either of them! Promise me!”

Finally, it dawned on Claire if what she was thinking was what Jill was implying had happened, “What?” and she covered her mouth in shocked horror, “Do you mean? No… How could that…?! Impossible!”

Jill glared into the redhead’s shocked eyes, “Claire… yes… that.. that... Fuck! I really should not be telling you this. At all! It was… fuck… it was so traumatizing for him. It still affects him, both of them. Chris was by his side through it all. Flashbacks, nightmares… Chris told me he had never seen him so out of it during recovery. Promise me, Claire! Promise!!” Jill was in a panic, needing to trust Claire to keep her mouth shut. Wesker would never forgive her.

Fear filled Claire’s eyes as she swallowed thickly, “I promise, Jill! I promise! I swear! I won’t say a thing! It’s just… he’s so fucking strong.”

Jill sighed sadly, “It didn’t matter. They knew what his weaknesses were and took full advantage of them.”

“Weaknesses?”

Jill pinched her brow, tired of playing 20 million questions, “Another time. Let’s head back to keep an eye on them.”

*****

Chris could not hold in the burning question that had been plaguing him since he had woken, croaking from the strain of his situation, “How did you know?”

Wesker crouched low until he was kneeling on the floor, trying not to slump on Chris’s bed more than need be to be close to his lover, “What do you mean?”

Chris ran his hand down Wesker’s cheek, “How did you know it would work? Giving me your blood.”

Wesker’s expression froze, face losing color quickly as he leaned away slightly, causing Chris’s hand to drop to his shoulder, which instantly clenched into the borrowed shirt. The remorse was obvious in the glowing ethereal eyes. Wesker was never very good at hiding his feelings when his eyes were exposed, always relying on his shades for a protective shield. He suddenly wished he was still wearing them, though it likely would not do him any good when Chris was the one to call him out.

Chris didn’t need to see his eyes anymore to know something was off, “You know something?” It was spoken low, not quite an angry whisper, but irritation apparent in Chris’s apprehension.

Wesker actually looked nervous, and after several terse moments, reluctantly admitted, “I… do… know something.” His shoulders slumped slightly, “I was going to tell you once I found out more, but… I didn’t want to say anything until I was completely sure.”

Wesker explained how he noticed Chris had healed incredibly quickly from his bite when they had their office quickie a few days prior. As a concerned lover, with an inquisitive curiosity of what his new enhancements could do, he started testing a bit of Chris's blood. His tests were incomplete, but it seemed that he had infected Chris via their sexual activities.

Wesker explained that he had forgotten all about the vasectomy from early on in his recovery and that his body healing had apparently reversed the procedure. As he explained this, he kept his eyes down, wringing his hands together nervously. He explained he had a few more tests to finish but was suddenly cut off by a loud hiss. Wesker looked up to rage-filled yellow eyes.

Chris was livid, “Why would you keep this from me!”

Wesker was shocked at the sudden intensity of Chris’s anger, “I didn’t! I was trying to understand what was happening!”

Chris's eyes brightened as he continued to press the blonde, “But you knew what it was! You could have said something right away!”

The unexpected intensity pushed Wesker to the point of blazing rage, “I gave you a part of myself, and it saved your life. You keep spouting your heroic bullshit all these years, and for once, I actually take your actions into consideration and save you!”

Wesker scoffed, body vibrating in his anger, sitting fully on his hunches now, completely out of reach of Chris’s touch, eyes burning with frustration, “Appreciate I made the effort at all!” It was a badly concealed lie, and they both knew it. Wesker would never let Chris die so easily. He would have dived into heaven to wrestle Chris’s soul back if he had to.

Wesker stared at the floor, eyes flitting from the specks in the linoleum tiles, pained anguish awash his face. He could hear Chris’s vitals rising, breaths catching, obviously still furious at Wesker for keeping such information from him. Wesker believed he did the right thing, not wanting to upset Chris with partial information and now paying the price at the younger man’s unrestrained anger. He snatched his shades from where he had dropped them earlier and slipped them on, standing rigid.

Wesker tried to keep the contempt from his partially veiled expression, whispering, “My life will never be worth more than yours.”

Chris’s yellow eyes flashed brightly with the intensity of his anger, his face red, and the monitors started to indicate a sharp rise in his vitals as he yelled, “You don’t get to say that! Not Now! Not ever! Not after everything we've been through!”

Wesker was tired. His heart hurt. The vicious anger directed wholly at him unexpectedly, and he needed to diffuse the situation before one of them blew a gasket. Wesker leaned down and quickly pressed his lips to the sweat-covered forehead, whispering, “I’m sorry, Dearheart,” and then turned away before Chris could grab him and quietly stalked out.

Wesker noticed Jill and Claire walking back towards the room but completely ignored them as he turned away, a deep-set frown set in place. He ignored Chris’s strained yelling and Jill’s inquiries of where he was going.

Chris was enraged, and Wesker did not want to exacerbate his condition more than he already had.

.....

Wesker found himself suddenly in the nursery. He felt an odd yearning to hold the infants, feel their small breaths, and listen to their heartbeats. He wanted to ensure they were alright.

He was about to pull the nursery door open, but it was locked. A familiar voice made him turn his head as one of the head nurses, Val, called out to him, and he instantly shifted into angry, protective dad mode, insisting he be allowed to hold the twins. Needing the reassurance that they existed even though it should be impossible.

Sighing, Val walked him over to the far side away from the door that she intentionally left locked. She pointed to the two small bundles on the other side of the glass in the front row. She had obviously been expecting Wesker once she heard that they were found during the mission. She didn’t question it but apparently was ready for his arrival. “They are clean, clothed, fed, and content.” Wesker could only stare at the small smiles of their sleeping faces, pressing a hand to the glass as if it would bring them closer.

She spoke quietly, “They will be fine. I won’t let anyone hurt them.”

Wesker turned to stare at her, not hiding the fatigue and pain from the long day. She didn’t back away or avoid her eyes. As a seasoned nurse, she knew that look. “Maybe you should take care of yourself? Go get cleaned up. You reek of death.” Wesker shifted his weary gaze back to the infants, but she continued, “A good shower, rest a bit, and then come back, and you can be there for them, but for now, they are safe, and you, Dr. Wesker, are a mess.”

Wesker frowned, eyes watering slightly at the denial of his request for physical reassurance, but he knew she was right, his face melancholy as he watched the two sleep.

He slowly let his hand drop from the glass to hang at his side. He could smell them from here, and they seemed content. No alarming bells were ringing in his skull, and hadn’t since finding them in the facility.

Her reassurance helped to reassure him only slightly, and he whispered solemnly, “Thank you, Valeria.”

Taking one last gaze at the twins, Wesker turned and left the nursey and the hospital, not looking back. He easily made his way back to Chris’s and his shared residence. Wesker wanted to do what the nurse suggested but knew it was wishful thinking, his heart aching in turmoil.

.....

Wesker entered the apartment for the first time since the mission.

It was a mess. They had several passionate relations the night prior and only cleaned up some of the mess before they had to head out. Both bedrooms were soiled as well as the remnants of their makeshift bed on the couch. Sullied from their morning lovemaking after Chris had woken from an enticing dream. He could smell their combined fluids everywhere. A reminder of the multiple exuberant unions. It had been so fucking incredible. Wesker would have never imagined how far it had gone when he first planned to surprise Chris with his peace offering.

What he would give to have Chris, here, safe in his arms.

No longer needing to upkeep his façade any longer, Wesker collapsed in the foyer, unable to step any further and completely breaking down, sobbing as he groveled at the passionate moments frozen in time throughout the empty apartment. His fists clenched his hair tight enough to pull several strands loose. “I’m so sorry!! I’m so fucking sorry! Please! I’m so God damn fucking sorry!”

Wesker didn’t care about the snot running down his face or the saliva that he couldn’t keep down because he couldn’t stop the aching agonized wails that peeled his lips back over sharp teeth. Nor could he stop the cascade of tears that he thought had run dry, “Christopher, please! Please forgive me!”

Everything had been so complicated. He had been waiting to tell Chris what was happening and that it was likely a good thing, enabling Chris to heal faster. He just needed a bit more time. A couple more tests to run to make sure it didn’t have adverse effects. Wesker had just wanted to be 100% certain before he told Chris everything.

No strength left to keep yelling at the empty space, Wesker whispered in a broken sob against the floor, “I’m so sorry…”

*****

Claire and Jill had run into Chris’s room after observing Wesker’s silent departure. They could hear Chris bellowing after the rapidly retreating figure. Now they were sitting on either side of the distraught man, trying to comfort Chris, who was now a sobbing mess calling after Wesker despite him being long gone.

“I’m so sorry! Please tell him I’m sorry and to come back! This is all my fault! Please, Jill! Bring him back, please! I want… I need him here. Please!”

Jill knew it was futile but attempted to calm him down, “Take a breath, Wesker will be back. He has some other business to take care of.” This caused Chris to look at her in confusion; his trust in everyone now questioned, “What business?” Jill leaned back in her chair, sighing deeply, “I’ll show you when you are feeling better.”

Chris slumped angrily against his pillows, eyes sparkling with tears, snarling, “Everyone has a fucking secret these days!” Chris wrenched his head towards his sister, “Do you have a secret too, Claire?! Come on! Spit it out!” Claire looked baffled at the angry outburst, not used to Chris’s attitude being so off-putting and explosive but couldn’t blame him with everything he had just been through. She was still was having a hard time also processing the silver hair and wolf-like eyes that seemed to glow brighter the more agitated he became.

Not quite yelling, but still irritated from Wesker’s abrupt departure as Claire kept staring in amazement at his face, “What are you looking at!”

“Ummm….” Claire looked uneasily at Jill, hissing, “No one’s told him?!” Chris looked between them, frustration rising, “Told me what?!”

Jill scoffed at the refueled irritation, “No, Claire, obviously, we haven’t.” Claire gaped at her brother’s strange new coloring, and for some reason, it seemed to fit him oddly well.

Chris instantly panicked, touching his face trying to find bumps or nodes or horns, “What?! Am I gross??! Oh God, please don’t tell me I look like a fucking monster! Fucking Goddamnit, Albert! I’ll never fucking forgive you!”

Jill hissed at him, “Don’t… say… anything else, Chris. You need to calm down. No, you don’t look like a monster, just different. It’s not that bad, really.”

The look Chris gave her said that he didn’t believe her.

Jill stood up and stepped from the room, moments later returned and handed Chris a mirror back facing him first, silent. The look on her face warning enough that he did look different.

Chris wasn’t sure what to expect but slowly turned the mirror, eyes widening as he viewed himself, silently agreeing it wasn’t as bad as it could be. He raised what would have been his left arm to stroke his hair that had gone completely silver, save a few brown straggling hairs here and there. But when no hand appeared in the mirror, he dropped his gaze to where his left arm should have been, eyes tearing up. He dropped the mirror into his lap and turned his eyes away from the remainder of his arm that was tightly bandaged. Wesker’s transfusion of his blood had changed him but not by much. The hair and eyes he could deal with—the missing limbs, however, Chris wasn’t sure he could sanely bear that burden.

Suddenly smiling sadly at Claire, voice shaking, “I’m… I’m grateful to be alive. Really, I am, but I’m not sure if I can cope being stuck in a wheelchair the rest of his life.” Claire leaned forward and hugged him tightly, knowing Chris felt so utterly lost, “I’m a soldier, not a fucking desk jockey.” Chris snuffled into Claire’s shoulder, “I’m going to go fucking insane.”

Jill piped up, trying not to sound too enthusiastic, “Maybe prosthetics? There have been a lot of advancements in the last few years.”

Chris started getting more distraught, his anger dissipating into grief and fear. His life will never be the same again, and he grit his teeth. His missing limbs ached severely as if they were still there and he had just finished a punishing workout.

Jill knew he was set to talk to the psychologist soon. And that it was going to be a very long conversation for Chris, having been there herself. The first meeting was always long and difficult.

Jill leaned forward, “Chris, we will think of something, or at least Wesker will.” Mention of Wesker made Chris’s face fall even more. Jill knew not to press the topic, but she was worried about her friend. Not sure what had been said for Wesker to just up and leave without a word.

There was a soft knock on the door, a familiar gentle face smiling in on the trio. Jill smiled back. Finally, someone who could get Chris to reason with his situation, “Good evening, Dr. Bishop. Good to see you despite the circumstances.”

Dr. Bishop solemnly sighed, “Agreed.”

Dr. Bishop was the residential shrink for all the unique BSAA trauma and PTSD cases. She was the very same that Wesker saw every three months. He had undergone extensive therapy with Dr. Bishop once he could not take his flashbacks any longer, and after he had hurt himself severely and lashed out violently at Chris during an outburst.

Jill had risen from the left side of Chris’s bed and patted the redhead’s arm, “Come on, Claire, let’s get something to eat and get you settled in at my place.”

Claire and Jill quickly said their goodbyes to a haphazard-looking Chris who looked as if they were abandoning him. They promised they would be back later, hoping to reassure him as his anxiety heightened. Chris looked at Dr. Bishop with a heavy heart. She was good at her job, very good, and slowly Chris finally smiled, wiping away a few tears, glad she was the one who would oversee his psychological care, “Isn’t this a conflict of interest?”

Dr. Bishop laughed heartily as she took the chair on Chris’s right that Claire had vacated, “Not at all. There is no crosstalk. Ever. Unless you come to me for couples counseling. Together. And probably not even then.”

Chris couldn’t help the renewed tears at her mentioning Wesker, yet anger quickly rushed to the forefront of his emotional roller coaster, eyes sweeping over his missing limbs, “I’m so fucking pissed at Albert! At what he did!” Then his face fell completely, and he looked utterly lost, unsure of his place in the world. His place in Albert’s world. Questioning whether Albert would still want to be with him like this? Would Albert still love him? Or would he become a burden, dragging his partner down?

Chris’s uncertainty and fear were apparent, “I love him so fucking much, Dr. Bishop, I love him so much it physically hurts. I just… I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose him again. But… I’ve already pushed him away, and… and he left. He barely even said a fucking thing!”

Dr. Bishop settled in, leaning back, knowing this was going to take some time despite Chris’s recent waking, “You won’t lose him. You both just need time. This is a big adjustment for both of you.”

Chris angrily retorted, “But he lied to me.”

Dr. Bishop looked surprised, not understanding what had transpired for Wesker to not be in the room with Chris, but apparently, there had been an argument, “Did he? About what?”

Chris blushed fiercely, looking anywhere except the doctor’s gentle expression, trying to find the best words to describe what happened, “That he was infecting me during… our intimate… relations.”

She raised a hand slightly for him to continue, “How long did he know?”

Chris’s anger dropped from 60 to 0 in seconds as tears glistened again, “I’m not sure. A week, maybe, maybe… less.”

Despite the distraught look, Chris immediately resumed his self-righteous anger, “But he should have said something about it right away!”

Dr. Bishop now had a point to make, already knowing quite a bit of their relationship from what Wesker had already spoken to her about, “How long did it take for Albert to ask for help?”

Chris was startled by the question looking uneasily at her, not wanting to think about the final straw that caused Wesker to finally talk to the shrink about his flashbacks and nightmares, “Two months, maybe… but… well you know what happened.”

Dr. Bishop listened calmly, “I remember what happened. Chris… how long did it take Albert to open up to you?”

Chris defused like a balloon losing air, shying away even more from her stare, his yellow eyes shifting over the room, “Several months… some things after a year or longer.”

Chris understood where this was going.

Dr. Bishop persisted, “Chris, you are an open book. Everything you’re thinking is as plain as day. But Albert is not. Albert has his secrets. Needs his secrets. And in a way, maybe he felt like he may have been protecting you until he could understand what was happening. He is a scientist, after all.”

Chris knew he always jumped to conclusions quickly while Wesker tried to calculate every step carefully. Well, most things carefully, unless his cock was involved. Chris shook his head slightly, not wanting to go there at the moment and surprised at the sudden intrusive thought.

A melancholy sigh left Chris, looking to where Wesker had spent most of his time crouched next to his bed less than an hour before, wishing he was there now by his side. Chris could still smell him, and it made his chest burn with longing.

Dr. Bishop let the silence linger a bit before continuing, “Chris, this is not the end of the world. But the world has changed for both of you. And you will need each other. He relies on you more than you will ever know, and love makes people do impossible things.”

Chris couldn’t stop the sob as he pinched his brows tightly, tired of his grief and trying his best to hold the tears back, knowing full well he should be dead. Yet, he wasn’t. He was very much alive. In fact, he felt incredible minus the ghostly pains of his limbs that were no longer there. Probably the virus’ doing.

The gentle voice further nailed her point home, “You would not be here if Albert didn’t love you as much as he does.”

Chris felt incredibly guilty for yelling at Wesker, pushing him away when Wesker just wanted to be near him, hold him. Like Chris did for him when Wesker came back a brutalized mess. It took months for Chris to earn Wesker’s trust fully, and in return, the man he thought who was gone forever, having died in the mansion, had blossomed from the ashes as Wesker cast off his doubt, self-loathing, and resentment for the world. Wesker had only been able to do so because Chris had still cared for him and vowed never to abandon him, no matter how volatile the blonde became during recovery.

Chris rolled onto his side away from the good doctor, quietly weeping, knowing full well she was right, as he shoved his face into the pillow, exhausted from the traumatic events of the day and wanting to be alone. Yet, there was only one person in this world he did want to see right now, and he wasn’t there because Chris had pushed him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chris says he is sorry too because he was stupid to push Wesker out of the way and got himself injured.
> 
> Can you tell I’m trying to create Safari Chris here? I love Safari Chris… https://www.pinterest.com/pin/794111346785732773/
> 
> They are back in DC for Chris’s recovery where their residence is. Wesker’s recovery in Desecration was based in upstate NY in case he attempted to escape he wouldn’t have gotten far. In DC, Wesker could have easily slipped away.
> 
> I have smutty drafts for Peace Offering Part 2 and Part 3 which will be posted in Sacrifice Drabbles at some point. I have an idea for Wesker’s breaking point in which he sees the shrink and would be posted in Desecration Drabbles whenever I find the time to write it. I was writing this and chapters 5 and 6 simultaneously so I have an idea of how to end part 2.


	5. Reconstruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sighing, Wesker finally decided to check his phone, which had miraculously survived the mission. He had been avoiding reading any rude messages from Jill. Of which there were several texts and calls. Except they were hardly rude at all. He read and listened to them all carefully. Some several times and they boiled down to one thing, Chris needed him. Was calling for him. Was absolutely distraught that Wesker had left and had been desperately calling out for him to come back. Wesker could hear him in the background, muffled in some of Jill’s voicemails.
> 
> Wesker swallowed down a sob, pinching his brows as he let the phone slip from his fingers to clatter to the floor.

Wesker woke on the floor in the foyer, cheek sticking slightly to the tile as he lifted his head. He dragged his eyes to his watch. He’d been out for only a couple of hours, having passed out from the overwhelming emotions. Leaning up, Wesker rubbed his face, which was stiff from salty tears.

Leaning back to sit against the door, he observed the apartment, eyes rolling in exhaustion from one end to the other and back again, sniffling as his eyes started to water again. The smell was getting to him, and finally, he found the strength to stand up to start grabbing anything remotely dirty. Ripping sheets from both beds, and towels, blankets, anything that smelled of raunchy sex went directly into the washing machine.

Next, he went about spraying down counters and scrubbing the floors where additional fluids had ended up. Not able to keep his emotions in check, he ended up wiping his tears up along with the mess.

Finishing with cleaning and switching out laundry loads, Wesker finally found himself stripped down and standing in a hot stream of pounding cascading water. It felt wonderful, yet his usual stress relief of the scalding water did not make him feel any better. The only thing it did was make him think about the most recent intimate shower he had with Chris, and it made him despondent, silent tears falling despite his clenched eyes.

After standing in the shower until the water ran cold, Wesker sighed and stepped out to dry off. Not caring so much for his appearance, Wesker threw whatever clean clothes on that were within reach and combed his hair back, not bothering to style it with his usual products. He shuffled around on autopilot, switching out more laundry loads, and finally, exhausted, collapsed into the big chair in the living room, head in his hands.

Wesker wanted to see Chris so badly. Make sure he was ok, even if Chris was still mad at him. He would be content to just watch from the other side of the glass, even just to get a glance at the younger man to ensure he was breathing. Walking out while Chris was screaming at him was decidedly not the best option, but Chris was distraught, and he needed to calm down, and Wesker could not handle the beratement on top of his own self-hatred.

Between the two Redfield’s hostile emotions, he believed it best he removed himself entirely. Maybe he should have stayed and told Claire to fuck off. That he and Chris had a lot to discuss. But he didn’t. Instead, he retreated. His guilt weighing down upon his shoulders and Claire’s inherent bitching certainly did not help alleviate how terrible he was already feeling about the situation.

Sighing, Wesker finally decided to check his phone, which had miraculously survived the mission. He had been avoiding reading any rude messages from Jill. Of which there were several texts and calls. Except they were hardly rude at all. He read and listened to them all carefully. Some several times and they boiled down to one thing, Chris needed him. Was calling for him. Was absolutely distraught that Wesker had left and had been desperately calling out for him to come back. Wesker could hear him in the background, muffled in some of Jill’s voicemails.

Wesker swallowed down a sob, pinching his brows as he let the phone slip from his fingers to clatter to the floor. He suddenly felt old. As much as he desired his revenge against his assailants, he wasn’t sure if this was all worth it. He had almost lost Chris. What if next time he couldn’t save him?

Yet, Wesker knew Free Arcadia must be destroyed at all costs. He would do it alone if he had to. He didn’t want to chance Chris getting hurt again if he had any say in the matter.

But as Wesker replayed Jill’s voicemails over and over in his head, clenching his lip in between his teeth as he felt his heart shatter for leaving Chris so abruptly. He had abandoned his lover, who had apparently been crying out his name even in his sleep.

.....

It was very early in the morning when Wesker slipped into Chris’s ICU room, closing the blinds as quietly as he could. Chris seemed to be asleep on his back, and Wesker frowned, knowing full well the younger man hated sleeping on his back.

Wesker was tired, exhausted, and forlorn as he slipped out of his shoes next to the door as quietly as possible. Stepping as lightly as he could, Wesker sat next to Chris, who was densely bundled with blankets. Wesker was afraid to touch the younger man, who looked absolutely exhausted, dark bags under his eyes.

Wesker could not help but gently lean forward on the bed, head bowed, whispering brokenly into Chris’s ear, “I’m so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t expect it. But please know that I love you more than anything else in this world. And I would do what I did all over again if it meant keeping you here with me.”

There was a slight rustling, and a gentle hand was threaded through Wesker’s unruly hair, causing him to jerk upwards, wide-eyed at the slightly illuminated yellow eyes that pierced into his soul with longing. Wesker could not help but state the obvious, “You’re awake.” Chris’s eyes shown even brighter as a small smile presented, and he uttered the same words Wesker did when he woke from his semi-coma so long ago, “I can smell you.” Chris’s nose was not as good as Wesker’s but good enough.

Chris’s hand cupped Wesker’s cheek, brushing a finger along the apparent stubble. Wesker’s attempt at self-care while he was at the apartment was minimal at best. Chris’s face fell, eyes glassy, “Albert, I’m sorry. If I didn’t…” Chris choked slightly, looking up at the ceiling to try and say what he so desperately needed the blonde to hear without completely falling apart or going off the deep end, “If I didn’t get in the way… this would have never happened. This is all my fault.”

Wesker leaned up and wrapped his arms around Chris tightly, face pressed in the silver hair, “No, never. It was not your fault, I…” Holding Chris tighter, “I was selfish. Doing what I did to you. And not telling you…”

A low hissing hushed Wesker from continuing, leaning back slightly, “Albert, shut up and just kiss me.” And Wesker did as if Chris would disappear in the blink of an eye. Leaning back after their breathing started to get laborious, Wesker pawed at Chris’s face and hair, and searching the now blazing eyes, again, speaking the obvious, “You’re exhausted.”

Chris chuckled as he ran his fingers through the loose blonde hair, “So are you.” Chris brought Wesker's face forward for gentle chaste kisses, Wesker muttering in between them, “May I?”

Chris smiled, knowing exactly what Wesker was asking, “You may.” Wesker leaned back and smiled, though his eyes still held deep internalized pain. He made his way to the left side of Chris’s bed and flipped the blankets back enough for him to slide in next to Chris, “Can you scoot over, or do you need help?” Chris stared reluctantly down at his body, still unnerved looking at himself, and nodded, “A bit. Can you help me onto my side?”

“Of course, Dearheart.” Wesker knew this was extremely difficult for Chris but gently helped him to shift onto his side so that they could face each other. Without further prompting, Wesker slipped under the covers and took residence in the newly opened space, and Chris opened the blankets further for Wesker to bring them closer together.

Chris ran his hand over Wesker’s cheek, thumb brushing Wesker’s lips, and Chris just stared. Finally, he whispered, “I thought you were dying.” Wesker didn’t flinch but searching Chris’s face before replying as honestly as he could, “I was.” Chris’s eyes widened as he stiffened at the recollection. Wesker continued, frowning slightly, “But that is what the special rounds were for. To boost my healing.”

Chris’s eyes dropped, grief causing them to water, “I wasn’t thinking. Just seeing you lying there bleeding out… like… like back then… in the mansion. I couldn’t do anything to save you then. You were gone by the time the tyrant went down. And just… I don’t know. I just felt like I needed to save you. Protect you.”

Wesker wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling Chris’s face into his neck as Chris curled his hand under Wesker’s shoulder to clench into the blonde hair gently, “You were thinking with your heart, not your head.” Chris sadly retorted, “Still.” Wesker shushed him, “Don’t worry about it. I think we have both beaten ourselves up enough to last a lifetime.” Sighing, Wesker ran his fingers over Chris’s chest, who seemed to be as healthy and strong as ever.

Wesker’s eyes snapped up suddenly, a look of excitement on his face, “I just remembered, I have an acquaintance who does very high precision cybernetics and who owes me. If he is still alive and willing, would you consider him making you custom prosthetics? Limbs you could control as if they were your own?”

Chris froze, somewhat confused at exactly what Wesker just said, and his exhausted mind unsure of what exactly he just heard, “What?” Wesker smiled lightly, “I admit I had forgotten about him but was thinking how we can get you back on your feet.”

Chris’s brows furrowed, “Is that even possible?” Wesker continued excitedly, “They are specialized cybernetics, with an implant to allow you to control any limb easily with a thought.” Chris seemed apprehensive, closing his eyes tiredly and laying against the pillows, “Do you think that would work?” Wesker smiled, vibrating with excitement, “I’ve seen his work. It’s exquisite. People don’t even realize the difference. Just moving as if nothing had been lost.” Chris sighed heavily, still overwhelmed with the incredible injuries he had sustained, “Alright, Albert. If you say so, but I’ll believe it when I see it. I don’t want to get my hopes up only for them to be crushed.”

Wesker lightly kissed Chris’s forehead, “Trust me.” Chris’s eyes remained closed, but he smiled and shuffled as best he could into Wesker’s warmth, “I trust you.” Wesker smiled, “Good, now shut up and get some sleep. We’re both exhausted.”

It did not take long for both of them to fall asleep, finally in each other’s presence, allowing them to rest finally.

.....

A few hours later, Jill and Claire had made their way back to the ICU to check on Chris and see how he was doing. Both hoping he was able to at least get some sleep. When they had left the evening prior, Chris was practically inconsolable and had fallen into a fitful sleep, still calling out for Wesker.

The two women knocked lightly but heard nothing in the room that was dark, the blinds closed. Slowly making their way inside, they froze when they realized Chris was not alone. Blonde tuffs of messy hair visible on the left side of Chris’s bed. There was only one person it could be.

Claire muttered quietly over to Jill, “It would almost be sweet if it was anyone else.” Jill responded just as quietly, “Eh, I’m used to it. They’re sleeping, and in the same room, that is all that matters.” Claire huffed, folding her arms over her chest as she shifted her weight in irritation.

Suddenly, a blazing pulsing white iris caused Claire to stiffen as Wesker raised an arm from around Chris’s shoulder and proceeded to raise his middle finger at his lover’s sibling. Before Claire could start yelling at him, Wesker brought the finger to his lips, which were pulled back over sharp teeth as he hissed. The action shushing her tirade in its tracks.

Chris stirred from the coldness of the removed arm, and that was when Wesker wrapped said arm back around the younger man’s shoulders, bringing the covers back up in the process. Chris sighed, and the pulsing irises were covered once more with heavy eyelids.

Jill chuckled, grabbing Claire’s arm and stepping out of the lion’s den, closing the door quietly to let the two rest. Figuring they should leave the two to sleep as much as possible, breakfast and coffee were in order. Jill couldn’t help but smirk at Claire, who was livid, “He’s very protective. At least give him that much credit.” Claire grumbled, “He acts like a fucking teenager!” Jill stared at her with a deadpan expression, “You have no idea how true that statement is for both of them.” Claire froze in her tracks, squeezing her eyes shut as a tremor ran up her spine, “Shut up! Just shut up! I don’t want to know, for fucks sake, Jill!”

*****

Wesker’s cybernetics acquaintance was more than ecstatic to assist him in designing and building Chris's new functional limbs. Chris could not comprehend at first, but after seeing some of the work Wesker’s mystery acquaintance had done, he was indeed impressed and willing to give it a try.

When the acquaintance introduced himself, it was far from what Chris was expecting of someone working in the field of cybernetics. Dr. Ruth seemed like a hard-set professional but was very friendly once Chris was able to speak with him to discuss his next steps.

It was a lot of visits and measurements and fittings and other procedures, but a prototype arm was designed in a matter of a week. Both Wesker and Chris were impressed with the speed at which Dr. Ruth was able to design and build the custom prototype. After several small procedures, Chris was fitted with the functional rudimentary left arm that he surprisingly had such ease in using as if it was his own flesh.

With the prototype received well and no adverse effects or rejection. Dr. Ruth, with Wesker’s and Chris’s blessings, started on the design of custom legs, to be built to Chris’s exact height from prior, not willing to lose or gain any additional height. He already had enhancements from Wesker’s viral donation, and he didn’t need or want to gain a height advantage too.

Wesker had friends in high places, and Chris was truly thankful for his influence to at least have an arm he could control almost normally. In time, he was sure any bugs would be worked out. At first, he was a little skeptical this would work, but now it gave him hope that he would not have to give up his day job. Chris was being honest when he told Claire he would go insane if he had to push papers all day long.

*****

Wesker was sitting in one of the nursery rocking chairs, holding one of the twins who was contently curled up on his chest napping. Val had asked him if he wants to name the babies, and he just looked dimly and told her he would have to think about it.

Wesker was confused about how even to be a father. If he even wanted to be a father. Maybe it would be best if he was just an outside influence, an “uncle” overseeing the twins' care from afar. Maybe a Godfather. Though Wesker was tortured with the thought of abandoning them as he was their only family by blood. Could he be a father, able to allow them to lead normal lives?

Shaking the thought, Wesker could not bear to expose them to the violence that has surrounded him his entire life. Even if he wanted a normal life, it would be impossible. He had a target on his head, and even if they destroyed Free Arcadia, there was the potential he would be hunted again or captured, and everything would start all over.

If it had come to be known who and what the twins were by his adversaries, they would be hunted, easy targets. Wesker would not allow that to happen. He held the small child gently, hand on the tiny back, feeling him breathe in and out, the bond they shared almost incomprehensible at times and others as if everything has always been this way. They were part of him, after all.

Sighing, he stared at the other twin that was watching him silently, as if she was jealous that her brother was hogging Wesker all to himself. Wesker smiled at her, knowing that was exactly what she was thinking. In their odd little way, understanding more so than babies their age should even comprehend. She smiled back, excited that her guardian had understood her haughty stare. Wesker agreed. It was indeed her turn to be loved.

.....

Wesker had never ever changed a diaper in his life. Not even for Sherry Birkin. He had absolutely refused and for good reason, but there was no getting out of this now. Wesker’s face scrunched up, eyeing the twins who stared up at him knowingly, trying to play innocent, “What is that God awful smell?!”

Having a sensitive nose, Wesker almost gagged, “What is that?!” Val had somehow snuck up next to him, poking her head to stare at the two troublemakers, “What do you think it is? It’s poop… Daddy.” Wesker blanched, face a mix of extreme irritation as he pulled away from her in shock at being called such a name, “Do NOT call me that!”

Val looked up at him smirking, knowing that being called that made Wesker uncomfortable, “You do want to be in their lives?” Wesker eyed her, reluctantly confirming that yes, he did want to be in their lives as much as he was safely capable of.

Val picked up each baby and sniffed at them, “Then you will have to learn how to take care of them, clean them, feed them, and love them.” Confirming it was indeed the little lady, Wesker stared at the gurgling infant staring happily up at him with shining blue eyes of pure wonder, with the rankest ass he ever smelled.

Sighing, Wesker could not be the least bit irritated, despite his gag reflex kicking in, “Oh, little Heart, what will I do with you?” Val had stepped away to grab the necessary diaper and wipes for a proper changing, answering for the tiny child, “Clean her butt.”

Wesker turned to Val angrily, “I know that!” Scoffing at the extreme sarcasm, Wesker turned back to the twins. Sighing heavily as he picked the female infant up carefully, “Val, I have never changed a diaper before.” She was back at his side and shifted her gaze over to a clean spot for Wesker to put the child down, “Nothing wrong with that. All new parents learn fast. Here, let me have her. I’ll show you.”

Thankful he would have some help; he was grateful for Val taking pity on him when he could not keep down the belch as his stomach churned. “You look a little green.” Irritated blazing eyes drilled into the side of her head as he stepped back. She could feel the stare but knew well enough to ignore Dr. Wesker’s irritation, like a cat biting after being pet too long, “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, just don’t throw up on her. I don’t think she will appreciate that.”

Another loud belch and Wesker stepped back even further, hand over his mouth swallowing thickly as he observed Val’s process, which she had down to a T. If he would be changing diapers, he debated investing in a good quality gas mask. Once they started eating solids, it was his understanding they would smell even worse.

*****

Once Chris was better situated with his new body, he realized the viral enhancement gave him a new advantage. Strength. Possibly as strong as Wesker though he was still forlorn at only acquiring part of the virus’s advanced healing abilities. As much as he was content with his new left arm, it would never be the same.

Chris brought the increase in strength to Wesker’s attention. Of course, Wesker was not surprised in the least bit and told Chris so. The confusion was evident on Chris's face, and Wesker explained that Chris had broken the blonde's wrist right after the transfusion in anger.

Chris did not believe him. The thought of hurting Wesker, even less breaking the tyrant's bones, was unimaginable, “What?! That’s impossible!” Wesker was actually impressed with the action now that he was able to reflect back on it, “You were enraged. I pulled you back from the cold dark fingers of death, and you were definitely not happy about it at all. Take it as a good thing.”

Wesker only smiled at Chris’s continued confusion, knowing full well the younger man would understand why eventually.

*****

After receiving his new arm, Chris was moved to a regular room, no longer needing to be in the ICU. As much as he hated it, his extended stay there had been a precaution by his medical team. Finally, once settled in, Wesker and Chris were finally able to have time alone and a bit more privacy, no longer encased by glass walls for observation.

Wesker sat next to Chris, testing the arm to see how well the younger man was able to control the appendage. Dr. Ruth’s expertise did not disappoint, “How does it feel?” Rotating the appendage and expanding the fingers to open and close, Chris smiled, “I’m getting used to it, though it is still weird and there is a slight delay, but I’m guessing that is normal.”

Wesker hummed, gliding his fingers over the intricate mechanics. After several silent moments of inspection, he slowly ran his fingers up to cup Chris’s cheek, staring at the yellow eyes that held so much uncertainty. Maintaining eye contact, Wesker leaned forward, lightly pressing his lips to Chris’s. It was a small sensual kiss, but when Wesker leaned back slightly to retreat, Chris brought his hands up to hold Wesker in place.

Chris escalated the action with such intensity Wesker almost fell forward but caught himself, not wanting to jar anything in Chris’s arm. Chris pulled back suddenly, growling low, “I miss you, Albert.” Wesker smirked, gaining some balance back, “But I’m right here.” Chris’s face looked tormented, whispering, “I miss fucking you, I miss us fucking… I…”

Wesker recaptured Chris’s mouth, murmuring against the hungry lips, “We could do all those things, but we would break the bed… and likely destroy half the room.”

Chris looked desperate as he grabbed his obvious arousal straining against the blanket covering his lap, “I’ve been so God-forsaken horny as all fuck. I’ve tried to ignore it, tried to jerk off, but … fuck… is this… is this how you feel?!” Wesker stood, face slightly amused with an underlying dark predatory look, hissing, “Yes.” Chris made a small sound of disappointment as Wesker stepped away, slowly walking toward the door. Opening it, he placed something outside the door that Chris couldn’t see.

Wesker’s eyes were glittering as he gazed back at Chris as he closed the door quietly, “Most of the time.” Chris whispered an expletive, not sure if he was happy to have this unexpected hormonal drive. Sweat prickled his forehead in anticipation, “What… what did you put out there?”

Wesker was silent as he had his back to the door, and then Chris heard a loud click as the lock caught. Chris gripped himself harder, a small ‘Fuck’ falling from his mouth. Wesker smirked devilishly and slowly stalked forward, “I placed a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob.”

Wesker slid his shoes off, feet now silent, as he prowled closer, eyes blazing, and Chris’s breaths increased. They had not been intimate since before the mission, not really having the required privacy, both being quite vocal. Wesker was surprised Chris had been able to hold out so long.

Reaching the end of the bed, Wesker easily slunk over it and crawled low like a lithe feline along the covered body until he extended his arm to hovered above Chris, eyes glowing blazing hot as he stared down. It had been excruciating waiting for some privacy.

Wesker cupped the back of Chris’s head to pull him into a short kiss before pressing their foreheads together, staring down as he pulled away the covers hiding Chris’s erection, causing the younger man to groan low from the brush of thick material. Wesker proceeded to pull the hospital gown up, completely exposing the red weeping cock. Chris’s breaths stuttered as Wesker lightly gripped him. Chris tried to keep his eyes on Wesker’s face but couldn’t stop the moan as he glanced down, his hand joining Wesker’s.

Wesker snapped his eyes back up to observe Chris’s face as he slowly lowered himself, letting his tongue lag out to lewdly lick up the dripping mess sliding down Chris’s shaft, ripping a loud gasp from the gaping mouth. Wesker wanted to take Chris fully but had not anticipated Chris getting his private room today and did not think to grab his mouthpiece. It would not be a pleasant day if he were to accidentally pierce such delicate flesh with sharp teeth.

Continuing to lavish the pulsing cock with his tongue as much as he could, each motion causing small sounds to be ripped from Chris’s throat. Wesker worked him tightly with his fist, licking and sucking the head, playing with the slit with his tongue. Chris had removed his hand to grip Wesker’s hair, trying to urge him to take him deeper, but the blonde refused and kept his focus on not accidentally cutting his lover.

All the while, Wesker kept his eyes upon Chris’s face, watching the expressions shift as sweat trickled down the younger man’s temples. Chris covered his mouth suddenly, trying to keep quiet, hips writhing, “Fucking hell, your mouth is evil incarnate!”

Wesker purred, vibrated his throat as he sucked around the thick head, causing a small choking noise to drop from Chris’s mouth as he suddenly came. Wesker opened his mouth to take the hot load, squeezing the cock with a solid grip. Swallowing most but savoring some, and when Chris’s body stopped jerking, he leaned up to deposit his efforts into the panting mouth, which ripped another guttural sound from Chris as he shared in his own essence.

Chris hungrily lapped at Wesker’s battling tongue, unable to get enough of the blonde who hovered above him. When he started hearing Wesker start to fumble with his belt and drag his zipper down, Chris gripped the material of Wesker’s shirt to bring him closer as he drew the messy kiss out longer.

Chris was almost fully erect again once he heard Wesker undoing his belt. In between licks and noisy sucking, Chris managed to ask, “Fucking Christ! Is this how it is for you?” Wesker broke the kiss to shuffle forward, knees on either side of Chris’s hips, situating himself in his lap, trying not to put too much weight on Chris’s thighs despite knowing he was fully healed.

Wesker hissed as he released his own aching erection from the confines of his undergarments, inching forward until their cocks touched. Chris immediately gripped them together, as Wesker rocked his hips slowly, sliding the slick skin as a pained expression shot across his face, tightly whispering, “Chris, it never stops… never goes away. It’s… it’s always there.”

Wesker let a shaky breath escape, tilting his head back, mouth open at the pleasant sensation, Chris being much stronger than he ever imagined, “I just… I just push it to the background as much as I can, but sometimes…”

Chris tightened his grip, and Wesker’s breaths caught, swallowing around the moan that tried to escape. “Sometimes, Chris… I can’t… I… fuck!’ A small keening was dragged from Wesker’s throat as Chris continued his aggressive ministrations. Wesker dropped a hand and wrapped it around Chris’s fist, tightening the grip even more, as the blonde rocked his hips forcefully to slide their flesh together.

Chris didn’t realize it, but he had clenched his newly fitted arm into the back of Wesker’s shirt, pulling him closer as their breaths sped up, over-aroused and trying to make up for lost time. Wesker couldn’t help but be swept up into the yellow depths of Chris’s eyes, the wanton lust and desire evident.

Chris pulled Wesker even closer, renewing their kiss as he sped their efforts up, getting close to his release, and he knew the blonde was too from the heaving chest and vibrating muscles of his thighs. They came almost simultaneously, Chris first and Wesker following seconds after, their poorly stifled moans bouncing off the small room’s walls.

After his breaths slowed, Chris muttered almost in disbelief, “Everything is so much… more intense. I could get used to this.” Wesker hummed in agreeance, grinning, already used to the high libido and having to control his urges. Chris’s wide eyes all the explanation Wesker needed that he was very unprepared to deal with seemingly unending arousal. Chris whispered, ‘’We will never get anything done…’”

Wesker laughed heartily, finally releasing his hold over Chris’s to lean back, grinning at their combined fluids, and brought messy fingers up to Chris's mouth, who licked them dutifully. Chris also brought his hand up to run his thump under Wesker’s lip and along the sharp teeth which parted to allow the sticky intrusion, tongue cleaning the fingers with diligent expertise.

Chris sucked in his breath, “You are such a cock tease with that tongue, Albert.” Grinning, Wesker released the now clean digits, “That’s what you love so much about me.”

Chris chuckled, “One of the things high on my list of what I love about you.” Blonde eyebrows raised in curiosity, “Oh, do go on, Dearheart.” Wesker rose up to slide off the bed to retrieve a wet cloth to clean them up. Chris pouted, watching the retreating back, disappointed that the fun was over. At least for now. Chris continued, “Your voice.”

A low hum of amusement answered him as Wesker returned, handing the cloth to Chris, who wiped himself down, a large portion of their combined cum having shot across his abdomen, “The feel of your skin.” Wesker had to agree. He did enjoy Chris’s massages, “You always were too handsy for your own good.”

Chris chastised the comment, “You loved it, Albert, don’t deny you didn’t have fun with me chasing you.” Eyes bright with amusement answered him as Wesker grinned, slipping back into his shoes, “Indeed I did.”

Wesker tisked, staring at Chris, who pulled his gown back into place, bringing the blankets up. It would take some work to get Chris to where he could at least concentrate and focus. “We should finish up. Your sister and Jill have been waiting for some time for me to open the door.”

Chris blushed slightly, understanding why Wesker cut their party short, “Fine, fine.” Bringing up a finger to point at the blonde who was in the process of unlocking the door, “We aren’t finished, though! Far from it!”

.....

Wesker stepped out as Jill and Claire stepped in, greeting Jill pleasantly and only grunting at Claire as he stepped past. Claire ignored it, giving the blonde side-eye, and smiling at her brother, who looked much chipper. The prototype arm seeming to be a good fit.

They sat and chatted a while, excited that Chris would be fitted for legs soon. Not helping his curiosity any longer, he pressed Jill to finally tell him about Wesker’s other business and where he goes when he is not spending time with Chris.

Jill smiles but doesn’t say anything. She took her phone out and handed it to Chris. He looks at her confused, and when he looked down at the screen, he could not believe what he was seeing. There was a picture of Wesker holding two babies and seemingly slumbering in a rocking chair, feet up, head back.

Jill laughed, “There’s more if you swipe right.” Claire moved to look over Chris’s shoulder, “Are these… real?” There were more photos of Wesker cuddling them, rocking them, feeding them, and a shot by shot of a hilarious moment of a failed attempt of a diaper change. Wesker did not look pleased, but the infant did. Jill was proud of those. They would make for good fodder for blackmail if she ever needed something from the tyrant.

Chris kept his eyes on the photos, swiping back and forth, “This is Albert’s ‘other business’?”

Jill nodded and went on to tell him how they came to find the twins. How desperate Wesker was to find them, not even knowing what they were, just knew he needed to get to them. Jill told him about how unhinged Wesker had become after Chris passed out. Facing his adversaries, how she found him denting in the floor, talking him out of a panic attack, and rescuing the twins. She also explained that they were not the only progeny to be found in the lab but the only ones they were able to rescue, there being several dozen mock wombs. Claire sat next to her brother and shivered, looking distraught at hearing what Wesker had experienced.

Shifting his eyes back to Jill apprehensively, “I want to see them. I want to see the raw interaction.” Looking back to the pictures, his expression uncertain, “I never took Albert to be a family man.”

Jill sighed as she leaned her head against a fist on the chair arm, “Neither did I, but he really did not have much choice in the matter. They are every bit a part of him, and just looking at his expressions, he’s very unsure of himself and everything about them.”

Claire, for once, stayed silent. Not sure what to make of Wesker handling or even raising kids.

.....

Situated in a wheelchair and wrapped in blankets against the chilly hospital air, the three made their way to the nursery in hopes of catching Wesker in an unnatural habitat. Jill knew Wesker could probably hear them coming, the chair making a soft squeaking against the flooring, but didn’t mind if he did. Rounding where Jill usually stalked to get her blackmail pictures, they stopped as Wesker was sitting with one of the twins, eyes closed, rocking back and forth.

Chris just watched in rapt fascination, difficult to believe he was seeing Wesker holding a child. But from what Jill had said, the twins were created from his DNA, and that Chris could understand why Wesker would come to be so protective of them. He knew a large portion of Wesker’s past and could understand not wanting to be away from them for long.

Wesker finally seemed to notice the extra company and smiled, eyes opening to see the three guests. He knew Chris was coming, always knowing when he was close by, and even more so now. Chris motioned for Jill to move him closer to inspect the child so contently wrapped in Wesker’s arms.

Chris stared silently at the small face, immediately seeing the resemblance, curious if this was what Wesker looked like as a baby. The child made a noise of protest, and immediately Wesker went back to rocking and shushing, already having had an earful of tears earlier. Chris just smiled, “You’ll make a good father.”

Wesker looked melancholy, “I don’t deserve to be called that.” Raising his eyes to Chris’s, “I can’t put them in danger. There is too much at stake, and I’m debating if I should even be in their lives. It would be the safest option if they were as far from me as possible.”

Chris shushed the lament as he reached his arms out, “That’s crap, and you know it. I know that face, Albert. You’re hooked. They have you wrapped around their tiny fingers. Plus, it would be safer to have them close by to watch over them.” Wesker’s frown lessened as he passed the child over into Chris’s arms. The younger man, for once possibly being right, Wesker would be distraught to see them be relocated to another area, not knowing if they were completely safe. The twins would probably not be very happy either to be removed from their protector.

Wesker grinned as the child smiled up at Chris. He shuffled over to the other twin and picked her up, “Perhaps you’re right.” Wesker shifted side to side with the other infant, who cooed at him, having watched Val make the motion often enough.

Claire spoke, which surprised Wesker at her forwardness, having almost forgotten she was there as she had stood back quietly, “What are their names?” Wesker stared at her, unsure, his shades keeping his unease from her inquiry, “They don’t have any. I’ve been trying to think of fitting names, but it’s not something I had ever thought I’d have to do.”

Claire and Jill looked at each other, probably more excited than they should be, “Oh, this is going to be fun!”

Wesker glared down at Chris, hissing, “Should I be worried?!” Chris shifted his eyes up to the women, who seemed overly excited, “Hmm? Oh, that. Nahhh!! It’s a girl thing.”

*****

A couple of weeks passed, and Chris was fitted with prototype legs in a similar design to his arm. It took a few days, but he was able to get the hang of the new limbs, incredibly relieved to be upright once more. Balancing was a bit getting used to as his muscles were denser and the legs a bit heavier than what he was used to.

It would not be long until Chris decided on a finalized design for his prosthetics, though he was given the option for more robust materials when he was approved to return to the battlefield. It was a decision he did not want to take lightly.

In the meantime, he and Wesker continued their bonding with the twins. Chris was actually becoming overly smitten with them. Wesker tended to find Chris in the nursery when not confined to his room.

.....

Wesker had been searching for Chris in the nursery and what he came upon was absolutely heartwarming.

So, of course, he had to sneak to get the moment on video. He couldn’t pass up the chance to catch Chris singing. At first, he didn’t realize who was singing as he made his way further into the nursery, but once he did, shock set in as he fumbled with his phone to capture the priceless moment. He always knew Chris would make a good dad, having practically raised his sister. Chris would definitely be much better at fatherhood than he.

Sneaking to the corner, Wesker just barely held the phone up to capture the next song and accompanying dance.

_I like to eat, eat, eat apples and bananas_

_I like to eat, eat, eat apples and bananas_

_I like to ate, ate, ate ay-ples and ba-nay-nays_

_I like to ate, ate, ate ay-ples and ba-nay-nays_

_I like to eat, eat, eat ee-ples and bee-nee-nees_

_I like to eat, eat, eat ee-ples and bee-nee-nees_

_I like to ite, ite, ite i-ples and bi-ni-nis_

_I like to ite, ite, ite i-ples and bi-ni-nis_

_I like to ote, ote, ote oh-ples and bo-no-_ NO!! **ALBERT**!!!

There was a crashing noise, and Chris lunged for the phone in a panic, eyes wide. The video abruptly swerved from Chris and twirled with Wesker’s far-reaching arm, but the sounds of Chris’s annoyed panic could still be heard as the video faced the opposite direction.

“Son of a bitch!!”

“Language!”

“They’re infants! They don’t know any better! What the hell, Albert!”

Wesker chuckled off-screen, which swerved around to face the floor, “Are you embarrassed, Christopher?”

A loud huff from Chris indicated that yes, he was indeed quite embarrassed, “NO! Now give me the phone!”

“No.”

“Delete it!”

“Not a chance.”

“Albert!”

“I no longer have custody of it.”

“WHAT!”

“You will have to find the whereabouts of Jill, who I cannot confirm nor deny may have already sent the video to your sister or Piers or your entire team for that matter.”

Silence, then the sound of shoes squeaking on linoleum, a loud crash, growling, and baby giggles.

“BASTARD!”

“ASSHAT!”

The video cut off abruptly as Chris lunged for the phone again, nervous panic at being caught doing something embarrassing such as singing kiddy songs and dancing for the twins, who just smiled and gurgled in delight, drooling with amusement at the gray-haired man making silly faces at them and bumbling nonsense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’m being nice, letting them reacquaint themselves. I was planning on dragging the tension out at least another chapter and then decided nahh… they really need each other.
> 
> I added a new piece called The Inbetween if you want to read the sob story of Chris experiencing Wesker’s death and his departure from Raccoon City.
> 
> I have a love/hate relationship with the apples and bananas song and I always imagined in my head Chris singing to the twins and being a goofy dad. The diaper section and the singing were actually going to be shorts but I decided to add them in here.
> 
> Also, there is this: https://www.pinterest.com/xxx_bloodswan36_xxx/the-rebuild/


	6. Anything For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris fully seated himself against Wesker’s trembling rear with an intense intake of air, the rippling channel felt absolutely unbelievable. Hissing at how incredibly tight Wesker was, Chris could not stop the question from fluttering out of his gaping mouth, “Have… have you been holding out on me, Albert?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am delighted how this came out. Back to some good ol’ hardcore smut. I had the first smexy scene written since mid-August… and then the rest just followed.
> 
> I would have had this out a week ago, but I have not felt great for a while and am losing energy reserves. Overall, so very happy I could finish this weekend.

After a couple of additional weeks in the hospital for the fitting of his prototype legs, Chris was finally released and allowed to go home with Wesker. Chris was still under Dr. Ruth’s care to eventually receive more robust prosthetics and potentially combat specific designs, but that would come at a later date once more advanced materials were acquired.

Chris gazed darkly at Wesker as he filled out the discharge paperwork for his release. Chris could smell Wesker’s rising arousal in anticipating of them going home, and he didn’t hide this fact that it was affecting him as he flared his nostrils at the older man, an evil smirk on his face, sticking his tongue out in mock concentration.

If anyone had caught Chris walking out of the hospital, they would have never guessed he was a triple amputee fitted with precision bionic prosthetics. Though there was still intense anxiety at not having feeling in his left arm and legs, Chris was incredibly grateful to be upright and able to control his upgraded body with relative ease. Chris was also desperately looked forward to using them to properly renew relations with Wesker by fucking him into complete submission.

Weeks of tension boiled down to Wesker relinquishing himself to Chris once they had reached their residence, the stress of being separated taking a heavy toll despite the quickies they had managed to sneak in while in Chris’s private room. Wesker needed this. He needed Chris. Needed him now more than he ever did before. Even more than after his own assault when he felt like he was broken and falling apart and wanted nothing except to cease to exist.

Though their short ride home was fairly silent, on a pheromonal level, it was anything but. It was impressive that they even make it inside their apartment before ripping each other’s clothes off. Having the full effects of the virus, Wesker was much more affected, though Chris certainly had his mark to make and a new body and strength to test out.

Before either could truly comprehend what had happened, they were both naked in bed, with Wesker on his hands and knees, legs spread, presenting a well-stretched amply lubed opening, breaths catching in anticipation of being fucked by Chris, who now housed a matching strength.

At the sensation of the dripping head pressing against him, Wesker shuddered bodily as the thickness started to spread him open, a small sound escaping his clenched teeth, eyes shut tightly.

Chris in response, hissed tightly as he breached past the clenching muscle, murmuring softly as his right hand smoothed along Wesker’s tensed spine as he continued to press forward steadily, feeling the hot channel grip every inch of him like velvet steel, “Fucking Christ, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you, Love.”

Chris fully seated himself against Wesker’s trembling rear with an intense intake of air. The rippling channel felt absolutely unbelievable. Hissing at how incredibly tight Wesker was, Chris could not stop the question from fluttering out of his gaping mouth, “Have… have you been holding out on me, Albert?”

Wesker turned to look over his trembling shoulder at his lover, eyes hot as a blazing supernova as they pulsed with desire, his arms vibrating from strain, “You don’t understand, Chris. I…” Chris pressed his hips forward gently, causing Wesker to rock bodily with the movement, groaning and arching his head back. In a pained voice, Wesker continued, “I… I… didn’t want to hurt you. I... could have crushed you so easily.”

Chris ran his fingers along Wesker’s back, the skin prickling with goosebumps. Chris hunched over his willing captive, murmuring darkly, “I want to feel all of you. No holding back. Not anymore.” Wesker turned back again, reluctance in the unsure expression, brows deeply furrowed, “But…”

Using his right hand, Chris pressed his upper weight down between Wesker’s shoulder blades, forcing the blonde into a more submissive position, ass up high, legs spread wide for deeper penetration. Chris took full advantage of the shifting, sliding in further, twitching his cock that was already so snugly sheathed. Chris relished the tightened grip of Wesker’s body, but he wanted more, knowing Wesker was still holding back, “If I can break your wrist so easily, I think I can more than handle it.”

Wesker had turned his head to gaze back up at Chris. He allowed this. Craved Chris making him feel so intense. For them to rekindle their bond this way. Wesker wanted to lose himself in the vulnerability of the position and slowly let his hold slide, and it was an agonizing euphoria to finally let go, a shuddering whine escaped him as he trembled harshly. Chris leaned forward slightly, catching himself on his arm that was pressing Wesker’s back down, his body quivering as he moaned at the sudden intensified sensation, “Holy fuck, Albert! You’re so fucking tight! Fu..fuck!” ~~~~

Wesker could only suck in shaky breaths, this being the first time he allowed himself to relax fully with Chris minus the times he was pleasuring himself in front of him. Chris relished in the blazing orifice as he held himself steady, and he could feel Wesker vibrate around him. Could hear the low sounds as Wesker tried so intently to be patient, but the vibrating grew more intense, and then Chris slowly pulled out, loving the feel of the gripping body presented beneath him, and then rammed his hips forward, ripping a sharp cry from the blonde who now gaped up at Chris in shock at the forcefulness of the motion, twisting just enough so he could stare intensely up at him.

Chris’s own expression obvious that he was not completely perceptive of how much stronger he had truly become from their shared blood, though his new legs probably helped in that regard as well.

Wesker panted tightly, “That… was pleasantly unexpected…” He shifted backward more against the buried cock inside him, coaxing Chris to move, licking moisture from his lips enticingly. Eyes blazing brightly and teeth bared, he hissed, expression feral and commanding, “Again…”

Chris complied with repeating the action, harder. Another cry escaped the blonde, who furrowed his brows as his body was jerked forward harshly, rocking the bed enough to slam it against the wall. Chris dragged his nails down the pristine skin to lean back slightly, bringing his hands to the blonde’s hips, holding them so he could pull the body towards him as he increased his motions into a steady rhythm of forceful deep strokes that caused Wesker to cry out with every plunge.

It was a new experience for both of them as Chris’s new enhancements and acquired strength from the transfusion enabled him to match that of the tyrant, or at least close enough to cause Wesker to be a moaning quivering mess forcing himself backward to meet every deep penetration. “Hmmm… You like that, don’t you, Love?”

Wesker had dropped his head to lay against the sheets. Breathlessly, he managed a strangled yes in response. Chris hunched forward, slowing his motions to a crawl, whispering into Wesker’s ear, “I want to hear you say it, I want to hear you say how much you love my cock. Love me fucking you… make you beg me for more.” And Wesker complied, repeating every word brokenly between breathy whines as his body quivered, trying to force himself onto the thick cock only to be stilled by Chris’s tightening grip on his hips.

Chris loved this, loved every single second. In the beginning, he was livid at what Wesker had done, but he slowly realized it was a true act of love and desperation on Wesker’s part. That losing Chris, Wesker would have lost himself, and God knows what he would have done if Chris had died. Probably try to destroy the world again. Or take his own life, if he even could, whichever came first.

But this was better, so much better. Chris watched the blonde writhe under him, not used to Chris having matching strength anymore, and obviously losing himself in the intense pleasure of being taken so thoroughly.

Grinning, Chris leaned back slightly, trying to angle his cock a bit more to slide along that perfect spot just so and after a few more thrusts found it, Wesker tensing his body up on his forearms to arch his back and toss his head between his shoulders, sweaty hair tousled, crying out even louder.

The luscious cries and moans turned Chris on even more, and craving those delicious sounds from his lover, urged him on. Chris leaned forward and grabbing Wesker’s elbows, pulled the trembling arms up from under the blonde and towards him, causing the muscled back to arch more as he drove his cock in harshly. Wesker, in turn, wrapped his hands around Chris’s forearms for purchase as his ass was pummeled by the augmented body behind him.

Chris could tell the blonde was about to cum, the vice-like channel starting to ripple around his pulsing cock, and it caused his own climax to build, causing his breaths to turn into loud wheezing gasps, sucking in precious air, the increase in his arousal intensifying. The waves of pheromones absolutely intoxicating, heightening all of Chris’s senses.

Swinging a leg up for more leverage, Chris intensified his thrusts to jackhammer into the sweat-drenched body that was at his mercy before him. Chris knew exactly where to aim as he groaned loudly in the quiet bedroom, and the cries had turned to whines as Wesker’s body started to vibrate against Chris, and a powerful thrust perfectly aimed caused the blonde to finally reach his peak. A loud sob ripped from the heaving chest, echoing throughout the room.

Between the incredible constriction of Wesker’s body around his throbbing cock, the vibrations of the other’s muscles, and the luscious loud sobbing Chris had somehow managed to rip from the other man, Chris came violently, shooting a thick load inside the hot clenching heat, and continuing to pound into the now slumping, trembling body.

Chris released one arm to wrap around Wesker’s chest to pull him backward, fully seating the blonde into his lap. Releasing the other arm, Chris ran his right hand down to the blonde’s cock, and grasping it, he jerked the shaft, quickly milking whatever was left from the orgasm that had obviously been so intense it shocked Wesker into complete, almost silent weeping.

Chris nuzzled the back of the sweating blonde’s neck, licking up the salty skin. He released the cock he had been milking and brought the cum covered hand up to grasp Wesker’s chin and gently tilted his head so Chris could see the tear covered face, claiming the quivering mouth that still gasped for air with a wet sweeping kiss.

Chris growled against the other’s lips, whispering, “Hmm, you’re so fucking beautiful… you know that? I don’t think I can ever stop loving you like this, being so mesmerized by you… makes me want you more and more.” After his final word, he thrust back up inside the tightened body, forcing Wesker’s mouth to open in an involuntary sound as his body jolted from the intensity.

Chris ravaged the presented saliva filled mouth with his own, taking possession of it and lavished it with his tongue, showing Wesker just how much he truly loved him by claiming every crevice, raking his tongue over the sharp teeth to add the taste of their shared blood to the fierceness of the moment as he rolled his hips deeper.

Wesker moved so that Chris’s still hard cock slipped out of him and twisted to wrap his arms around the sweat-drenched shoulders, his legs pretzeling tightly around Chris’s waist, pulling them closer and molding himself into the newly enhanced body, not caring about the mess slipping from between his legs or the hard cock bouncing enticingly against his balls. Gripping the slick erection, he impaled himself again, straining slightly from the oversensitivity in his depths, and renewed the tight grinding, a breathy noise puffed against his face as Chris shifted with the new position.

“I almost lost you, Christopher… and I know you’ll never forgive me for what I did to you, but I couldn’t bear…” 

Chris brought a finger up to press lightly to Wesker’s lips, shushing him as the tears renewed and the blonde couldn’t finish the sentence as he attempted to repress the choked sobs that now racked his body, and he shoved his face into Chris’s neck to hide his embarrassment.

Chris just held Wesker tighter against him, rocking slightly, feeling the still racing heartbeat galloping away. He smoothed the sweat-slicked blonde hair back that has come undone, running his hands through the locks as he massaged the back of Wesker’s head and neck, trying to soothe his sobbing lover. The brutal show of emotion completely shattering any remaining resentment between them, and Chris could not fault him for it.

“Well, I’m right here, you didn’t lose me, and as angry as I was at first, I’m sorry I put you in the position to even have to make the decision that you made.” Chris gently grasped Wesker’s face between his hands, bringing the teary-eyed mess to look up and gaze at him through watery eyes, quietly whispering against the quivering lips covered in salty tears, “I love you, Albert, and I forgive you, and hopefully, you will forgive me too for being a stupid overbearing lovesick fool.”

Wesker’s eyes widened, and thick bubbling tears rushed up to spill over, his body shaking even harder at these words, an anguished cry ripped from deep in his chest. Any remaining tenseness between them from the last several weeks completely and utterly dissipated with these words, “Chris… I… I forgive you. Please…”

Wesker gazed deeply into the yellow wolf-like eyes, scanning Chris’s face and only finding enamoring affection that solidified itself even more in his soul. Wesker brought a hand up to run through the silvery hair, “I don’t think I can truly exist without you, Christopher.”

Cupping the back of Chris’s head, Wesker brought their faces together to place a chaste kiss over each eye and cheek and one against his forehead and stopped there, gently pressing his lips against the cooling skin, not helping the catch in his voice, “Please don’t leave me ever again.”

Chris just smiled, wrapping his arms tighter around Wesker’s shoulders, pressing their bodies flush together, resuming the sensual rhythm, “I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Wesker did not hold back the half-sobbing chuckle that tried to close his throat as he buried his face into Chris’s neck, breathing in the enticingly strong familiar scent.

.....

After some time of just lazing around holding each other, Chris offered to give Wesker one of his therapeutic massages for old times sake. The same routine they did several times a week when Wesker was recovering. The massages that would reduce the physical pain and tightness from Wesker’s nightmares and flashbacks, once Chris had been able to convince the blonde that it would help. It took some cajoling, but Wesker relented after a particularly harsh nightmare.

The motions had also been a grounding mechanism for the panic attacks, especially running along the tender collarbone that had been shattered. Soothing the sharp stabbing pains. Wesker rarely had panic attacks anymore, but Chris still enjoyed running his hands over the rejuvenated skin that now covered dense bone and muscle. Chris had been running his hand over the lighter patch of skin on Wesker’s lower back, though he was still reluctant to touch Wesker with his left hand.

Wesker, of course, had noticed, and he turned to grab for the miracle of modern technology, allowing Chris the ability to move about somewhat normally. The first few days after returning from the mission, Wesker knew Chris was barely keeping at bay the mental break that was building from the loss of his limbs and of his independence, that is until Dr. Ruth arrived with his talented staff to create custom prosthetics.

Wesker interlaced his fingers with Chris’s left hand, whose face immediately indicated how uncomfortable he was. Wesker brought the captured hand to his lips to lightly press them to the bare biomechanical knuckles, “I know this is difficult, Dearheart, but I don’t want you to be afraid to touch me.”

Chris, of course, gazed at their joined hands, swallowing, “It’s not that, Albert. It’s… I can’t feel you. I can’t feel your skin. Or your warmth.” Wesker said nothing, but his expression shifted in understanding. The loss of touch being incredibly difficult during intimacy. Despite Wesker’s acceptance, it might take a bit of time for him to get used to the feel of Chris’s legs, though the final design was supposed to have skin-like sheaths that can be slid over the limbs.

Despite Chris’s reluctance, Wesker still desired the feel of the other’s soothing techniques, and after everything that had occurred, wanted the reassurance that though many things in their lives had changed, some things stayed the same. So Wesker rolled onto his stomach and turned burning pleading eyes up at Chris that he knew the younger man could not deny.

Chris did as his lover commanded, and straddling Wesker's thighs, took his time to work out the kinks that had built up since the fiasco of a mission. Wesker allowed a low purr to emanate from his chest and vibrate through his shoulders where Chris had started soothing circles.

A thought struck Wesker suddenly, a memory he had delved into when Chris was in the ICU. He was debating on how to go about telling Chris about a dream he had. The one he refused to tell Chris about for close to a year now and had eventually forgotten until serene moments such as this.

Wesker was a bit nervous but knew he had to tell Chris before he lost his nerve, that he would shuffle the dream back whence it came, and they would continue with this comfortable relationship. Not that he didn’t dislike anything about their relationship, but he wanted just a tiny bit more.

Wesker could not help suddenly blubbering, “I want to take you to dinner… it’s a recommendation from one of the interns, and it sounded interesting enough, and I thought you might want to try it this evening.” Wesker didn’t want Chris to know that it was from his dream. He had done some research on the area only to find a little hole in the wall place somewhat similar to what he had imagined.

Chris was still a moment, but Wesker could feel the slight movement of a silent chuckle as the talented hands resumed down Wesker’s spine, who groaned in bliss. Chris was surprisingly able to still use the same technique he had prior with his left hand. Wesker really couldn’t tell the difference except for the contours of the bare metallic design, the confident pressure the same.

“Dinner, huh? What’s this place called?”

Wesker turned his gaze up and grinned evilly as he purred, “It’s a secret.” The expression was returned as Chris leaned forward over his captive, grinding his partial erection into the supple flesh of Wesker’s ass.

Wesker’s eyes flashed golden, pulsing with rippling colors as he turned his gaze up to Chris’s grinning mouth and enticingly flexed his rear to press harder against the aroused flesh. Wesker licked his lower lip allowing a shaky breath to puff up into Chris’s hovering face, who rumbled in excitement.

“A secret… Well, it better be good.”

*****

The restaurant was absolutely terrible. The food was bland, the service was shit, and everything was overpriced.

As they stepped out, they both had to laugh it off, or they would start weeping with absolute disappointment. Chris tried to get out between his laughter that whoever recommended this place had no taste whatsoever though Wesker was not about to correct him that there had been no recommendation. However, he did plan to tell Chris everything once they arrived at their next destination.

Wesker‘s dream partially played out in reality as he drove them to Great Falls. Of course, the destination unknown to Chris though the sign indicating what was ahead was indicator enough, and Chris chuckled, “Great Falls, eh? Never been. Only heard of it.” Wesker made an internal sigh, glad it would be their first time visiting. Well, technically not for him.

Parking hopefully out of sight as the gate was down. The park having closed at dusk, they walked the rest of the way on foot, keeping a steady pace. Being enhanced certainly had its perks to cover long distances easily. Though Chris could not shadow run like Wesker, he still could put his previous track records to shame.

As they made their way past the visitor center and along the path to the falls lookouts, Wesker reached out to take Chris’s left hand in his. Chris tried to pull back, but Wesker would not relent, leading to nervous apprehension from the hand’s owner, “Are you sure it’s not weird?”

Wesker slowed as he smiled, “Chris, I love all of you,” and he brought the hand up to place a chaste kiss on the knuckles. Chris was a tad shocked, but Wesker pulled on the arm to keep on their way. They had not yet reached their destination, the same lookout in Wesker’s dream.

It was late summer, and Wesker chose this night as the full moon was incredibly bright and could hopefully recreate at least part of his dream, no longer holding back from his ultimate desire. Their battle was still unfinished, and Wesker wanted to take the ultimate leap of faith now before something else happened to one of them as they continued their pursuit to destroy Free Arcadia.

Wesker was pleasantly surprised at how loud the night critters actually were, though it was overall serene. Hand in hand, Wesker shuffled Chris along to the closest lookout to the falls. The crashing and roaring peaceful despite the violence of the tumbling water. They both stared a moment, absorbing the scenery. Wesker leaned on the railing and finally angled his gaze to the silver-haired man next to him and smiled stupidly, eyes glassy with intense emotion. Chris turned, placing a hand on Wesker’s bicep, and with incredible concern, whispered, “What’s wrong, Albert?”

Wesker made a choking laugh, rolling his eyes upward to search the sky on how to proceed, chastising himself that this was stupid. Except Chris was standing next to him, and he could not help but hesitate. Looking back over to his lover, Wesker nodded, gazing at Chris with unrelenting adoration, as the younger man eyed him with concern, bringing a hand up to the pale cheek to reassure he was listening.

Wesker looked away then, back at the falls, which were indeed lovely, even more so than his dream, “Chris, I have something to tell you.” Chris stayed silent. His hand had dropped from the other’s face when he turned back towards the crashing water. “Do you remember the day you were getting ready to go to training—where I woke up from a dream and was so distraught that you almost canceled, but I told you not to? That everything was fine.”

Chris nodded as Wesker returned his gaze, staring at one another deeply, remembering Wesker had been so incredibly upset but kept saying it was a good dream and that one day he would tell Chris about it, which had been forgotten to more pressing matters. Wesker smiled sadly and proceeded to tell Chris about the dream, the restaurant, Chris taking him to the falls, and bringing him right here, to this very spot. That Chris had distracted Wesker by making him look across the water at an imaginary object he had pointed out on the opposite bank.

Wesker continued, sighing, that when he turned his head to chastise Chris for the silly prank, Chris was down on one knee proposing and that Wesker had become desolate in the dream, believing himself undeserving of Chris’s love, only to be convinced by Chris that he was.

Wesker didn’t look at Chris as he spoke, staring out at the scenery, tears welling up and sliding down his cheeks, unable to stop the torrent as he wiped at them desperately, sniffing loudly as the falls blurred in his vision, “Chris, I wasn’t lying. It was one of the happiest dreams I ever had.”

Despite telling Chris about the dream, Wesker was frightened of being ultimately rejected if he ever brought the topic up. But Wesker had to say something. He had almost lost Chris, and he would have regretted the rest of his life; however, short it would have been if Chris had died and Wesker didn’t tell him how he truly felt. What he truly wanted.

Wesker heard Chris shuffle around beside him, and he turned to look over, except Chris was gone, the spot he was standing at now vacated. Wesker cried out to him. Panic and fear froze his stomach, which felt like a 10-ton weight had been dropped inside him, that Chris left him there, and that Wesker had frightened him away by telling him about his stupid dream.

As his tears started to run thicker, Wesker spun to look back towards the path they had walked in from, and his eyes suddenly snap down to Chris, who was down on one knee, apparently having snuck behind his lover. Wesker stopped breathing, frozen in place as Chris looked up at him with a wide grin on his face, yellow eyes sparking. Chris was presenting a silver cuff, holding it so the band ran along his knuckles and shining in the moonlight.

Chris was nervous, and it was obvious by the small tightness in his voice, “I know… I know things have been rough for a while, but… as I laid there… bleeding out and staring up at you as I was dying. How devastated you were. What you did to allow me to survive. It made me realize how lucky we are. To have each other. I don’t want to lose you again, Albert. I know this is going to sound cheesy, but would you spend the rest of your life with me? By my side?”

Wesker couldn’t help the smile despite tears trickling down his cheeks. It was not quite like his dream, but it was close enough, and it wasn’t terribly cheesy either despite Chris’s comment.

Actually, it was perfect. It was perfect because it wasn’t a dream. This was real. Wesker couldn’t stop the small, choked sob, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth in his shock, brows furrowed. This was the last thing he had been expecting. He just wanted to toss the idea on the floor to see how Chris may have felt about it.

Wesker hesitated, swallowing loudly, trying to clear the knot in his throat, staring into the shimmering yellow eyes, “Are… are you sure this is what you want?”

Chris stood up to menacingly stalk the few steps to stand in front of Wesker, looking incredulously up at the question, “Albert, I’ve never been so fucking sure in my entire life!” Wesker was silent, a plethora of emotions tumbling over his face as he looked over the band that was held between them, and he brought shaky fingers up to run them over the exquisite craftsmanship.

Wesker smiled a real honest smile. The fact that Chris just offered to spend the rest of his life with him, still not completely registering. Wesker jolted, gazing at Chris at the realization he would finally get the answer to the burning question from his dream, whispering, “What does it say?”

Chris smirked, “What do you think it says? ‘Anything for you.’” It was Chris’s trademark, and he had been saying it to Wesker since 1996 when the older man had unknowingly taken a bullet and spent a night in the hospital. Wesker knew then that everything was right in his world. Everything was perfect as long as Chris was there.

The response was a quiet whisper, “Yes.” Wesker held Chris so that he could continue, “Yes, I would love to stand by your side for as long as we exist in this life, and the next, and so forth. And if you ever, ever try and leave me again, I will hunt your soul down in the next world and bring you back kicking and screaming.”

Chris chuckled as he gently grasped Wesker’s left hand in his and gazing questioningly at his love, who nodded in silence, slipped the cuff over the pale skin of Wesker's wrist. The cuff was perfectly crafted to fit comfortably yet snugly on Wesker's wrist, not overbearing or uncomfortable in the least. Chris handed Wesker another cuff grinning, which caused the older man’s throat to tighten up, only thinking there was the one band. Chris nodded as Wesker slipped the other band around Chris’s right wrist. They were simple, yet perfect. The meaning they represented spoke volumes. Staring at each other in silence, they intertwined their fingers so that the moonlight caused the cuffs to shine brightly.

Without warning, Chris grabbed Wesker’s face roughly, attacking the older man’s mouth and pressing him to step backward, which was stopped by the railing. Wesker’s straining mouth responded in kind to the forcefulness of the onslaught. Wesker wanted Chris to devour him completely and utterly now that they were equally matched once more.

Chris suddenly pulled back, holding Wesker so that he could not advance, “Hmm… remember my fuck bucket list?” Wesker let out a breathy moan at being denied the hot enticing mouth, eyes glowing in ethereal light from being denied his partner for far too long during Chris’s recovery and fitting for his new limbs. Wesker indeed remembered the list that was several pages and counting, new ones added as many were crossed off. They had crossed off quite a few in Raccoon City too.

Chris whispered against the hungry mouth, “One of them is to fuck in a waterfall.” Wesker jerked back, laughing as he narrowed his eyes, “Are you fucking serious?! When did you add that one?” Grinning, Chris pressed his body forward, flush up against Wesker’s, grabbing the other’s hips to grind up against the matching hardness.

Chris chuckled darkly, bringing a hand up and pressed his thumb past the corner of Wesker’s mouth, rubbing over the sharp teeth and pricking the flesh, leaving a red line across the glistening white. Leaning in towards Wesker's ear, Chris murmured, “Do you want me to fuck you in a waterfall, Albert?”

The next moments were almost brutal in their intensity. Chris dragged Wesker down the rock side as clothing was somehow removed without being ripped. Once stripped and bare, Chris pushed Wesker into the water, battling and splashing across the open expanse to the crashing falls.

Wesker’s back was roughly slammed up against rocks at the base of the falls, a section where there was a small divot, and they were protected behind a shroud of pounding cool water that created a sparkling spray of water particles to float around them.

Wesker couldn’t stop the growl or the baring of sharp teeth as Chris probed him roughly, not thinking to bring anything as far as preparation. The next best thing being their combined spit. Wesker attempted to assist by bringing a leg up to wrap around Chris’s hip, but Chris gripped and pressed it back against the rock outface, causing Wesker’s hips to angle upward.

They were growling and biting. Bloody kisses and fingernail scratching left bloody smears and welts along their skin. Wesker so caught up in everything—so painfully and highly aroused on an animalistic level, that when Chris entered him, he sunk his teeth into the thick juncture of the proffered shoulder and neck, causing Chris to buck harder against him in surprise and in hopes to remove the tightening maw.

Chris had to forcefully grip Wesker’s jaw to unlatch the sharp teeth from his skin, blood smeared across his chin, causing a loud whine to echo around them as Chris sped up his efforts. Wesker vocalized his pleasure with an agonizing moan at being taken so roughly, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders to pull them closer together.

Lewd noises continued as the sounds of their passionate lovemaking grew louder, and the wet slapping of their bodies obscenely clapped in the small private space.

They could hear the clanking of their cuffs against each other, causing their coupling to surge with almost brutal intensity as they interlaced their fingers together. Wesker drew his other leg up as Chris’s motions pinned him to the rockface, urging the younger man to thrust deeper.

Chris continued pounding into the welcoming body, dropping a hand to tightly grip Wesker’s weeping erection, which Wesker’s immediately dropped a hand to encircle the teasing fingers to tighten their grip.

Chris released his grip on the leg he had pinned to the rock to clench the hand around Wesker’s throat, knowing that he was so very close, the chest heaving sharply and even more so as Chris slowly tightened his grip, ramming his hips to drive his thick cock into the welcoming grip of Wesker’s body which was on the verge of cresting his peak, dense muscles coiling tightly. The grip tightened over Chris’s jerking of Wesker’s throbbing flesh as strangled mews escaped the slow closure of Wesker’s air supply, his face almost pained, eyes widening as the pressure caused him to tilt his head back slightly, mouth gaping.

Without warning, Chris clenched his grip, completely cutting off Wesker’s air, pressing the head back. Wesker's body jolted violently as a vicious jab hit directly into his prostate, pushing him over the small edge he had been trying to balance on as hot cum spattered between them.

Black expanded outward to cover sclera causing Wesker’s eyes to pulse bright hot white as a silent snarl escaped him, unable to give the action sound as Chris’s body answered his lover’s viral calling, letting the bloodlust take him over as he climaxed, continuing his rough motions to drag the euphoria out longer and slightly torturing the writhing body he had pressed into the rock side, trying to drag out the intensity.

Still grinding into the tightened clenching heat, Chris slowly released his grip, allowing Wesker to finally breathe wheezily as he gasped loudly to pull fresh air into his tightened lungs, a small content sound dragged out over the light slapping of Chris’s continued motions.

Chris’s chest rumbled at the still clenching heat surrounding him, his body keeping Wesker in place against the rock. Searching the pulsing orbs, Chris gripped Wesker’s face gently to drag him forward to claim the gasping mouth gently, devouring the panting gasps as Wesker tried to reclaim oxygen, his eyes returning to normal as the intensity faded.

Chris pined, pawing over Wesker’s cheeks, sliding thumbs over his cheekbones, “Oh, how I wish to have you forever.”

Wesker grinned coyly, searching Chris’s face whose mouth hovered just over his, “Dearheart, you already do.”

Chris’s yellow eyes shined, slightly glazed, unable to voice how intense those words made him feel. Hence, he did the next best thing. He crushed Wesker tightly against him as if he was attempting to make them one person, fist clenched in the wet, askew blonde hair, claiming the grinning mouth with absolute fervor and possessing it with his entire being.

.....

After tearing themselves from their possessive embrace, they found their way out of the hidden alcove. Figuring there was no rush, they lay out on a rock large enough to accommodate them side-by-side to dry, their hands intertwined loosely as they gazed at the stars. After some time, Wesker’s curiosity cresting, “Where did you purchase these?”

Chris closed his fingers tighter around Wesker’s, “I saved all the titanium and steel they used to put you back together. I didn’t know what to do with all of it at the time, but … things just started feeling right, and I started looking for a jeweler.” Wesker was amazed, freezing as he gaped in shock as Chris continued, “I had them specially made. Designed them myself. I wanted something simple yet tasteful. Nothing overbearing. I’ve never seen you wear anything other than a watch before.”

Wesker felt a knot tighten in his throat, almost pained as his brows furrowed slightly, clenching their joined fingers, “How… How long have you been planning this?” Wesker did not miss the sparkle as Chris gazed adoringly over at him, ‘’To be honest?”

Wesker raised his eyebrows, curious now, despite his nervousness.

Chris chuckled and turned his gaze back to the night sky a moment, but wanted to see Wesker’s reaction, so he locked eyes once more, “Since we arrived in DC.”

Wesker’s eyes widened in shock, body suddenly rigid, sucking in tightened breaths, “What?”

Chris smirked at the reaction, looking away shyly but again returned to his lover’s frozen gaze that was piercing right into his soul, “Well technically, once we moved in. I know I teased it that first day, being newlyweds and all, but it stuck with me ever since, and I couldn’t shake it.”

Wesker let a puff of air he had been holding out as he lowered his head nostrils flared as he gazed over at his lover, his partner in every sense of the word, incredulous at Chris’s foresight and how long he had planned to ask him, even though Wesker had shot Chris down that first day living together.

Wesker found it endearing and incredibly arousing. They kept silent eye contact, but a whole conversation was had in those moments as Wesker, unable to verbalize how he felt, decided to allow his body to show Chris instead. Flexing up from his position, Wesker swung his leg over to straddled Chris’s lap, who had leaned up onto his forearms, anticipating Wesker’s movement when the older man rose from his moon tanning.

Wesker thrust his hips forward as he wrapped his fingers around Chris’s cock, stroking him with a firm grip, tearing a gasp from the younger man whose hands fell to Wesker’s already pulsing erection and his still slick entrance, thrusting two fingers inside the hot cavity, and causing a soft sound to fall from Wesker’s lips as he shifted himself closer.

Wesker whispered huskily against Chris’s mouth, rocking himself more forcefully against the younger man, grinding into the renewed throbbing flesh, “Take me… take all of me, I give myself willingly and freely.” The declaration continued silently in their locked gaze, ‘For I am yours, and you are mine. Forever.’

To say Wesker was impatient was an understatement as he lifted himself forward above Chris to angle the throbbing cock up against where deft fingers were still thrusting into him, which swiftly retreated to spread the full cheeks apart for better access.

Wesker impaled himself down on the rigid cock with rapt abandon, and his breaths shuddered as he arched his back at the intensity. Gazing at the ethereal sight as sweat already shimmered on the proffered body, Chris brought his hands up to grip Wesker’s waist as he descended.

A deep guttural sound rumbled from Chris’s chest at the rapid reclaiming, causing Wesker’s body to flinch and his cock to release a large dollop of precum to thickly slide down his shaft.

Chris noticed the glistening liquid and captured it between two fingers the best he could, bringing the glistening digits up to lick them lewdly, eyes glowing brighter as Wesker watched through slit eyes, breaths already speeding up as Chris slowly started to flex his hips upwards. Wesker could not help the panted observation, “Fuck! You do really look like a wolf with those eyes.”

Chris chuckled, gliding his hands up Wesker’s back to grip his shoulders, keeping him in place as he rolled his hips upward, “The better to see you with, Love.” Wesker gasped at the endeared pet name Chris had chosen for him when they first started exploring the kinkier side of their relationship. At first, he despised it but started to look forward to the moments when Chris used it. Now, whenever Chris called him 'Love,' it sent chills down his spine.

They built up into a slow sensual face-to-face lovemaking, similar to their first penetrative sex in NY. But this time, Chris didn’t have to control Wesker’s movements, and he certainly didn’t need to hold back for fear of hurting Wesker. Chris ran his teeth along Wesker’s left collarbone, causing the sensitive skin to jump under the pressure. At the loud moan, Chris thrust up unexpectedly deep into the gripping heat, ripping a louder sound from the arching body riding his cock.

Slowly they built up to a frenzied pace, the loud sounds of their bodies colliding and gasps not hidden completely by the torrent of crashing water anymore. Wesker bared his teeth, hissing through gasping breaths, “I want you to fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk straight… That you will have to carry me back!”

Chris’s eyes blazed at the request, and he shifted back, pulling Wesker’s bodily to him to hold him against his chest and jackhammered up savagely into the clenching orifice, panting lovingly into the sweat covered face above his own, “I’ll fuck you into next week if I could…”

At a particularly savage jab, Wesker tossed his head to the side as he arched his back, crying out, his face a mask of pain and pleasure. Chris’s strength so very closely matching his own and was very well obliged to fulfill Wesker’s request. “Fuck… Fuck… Fuck… **FUCK**!!" Wesker moaned deeply between expletives, leaning forward again to press his face into the damp silver hair, clutching his fingers into Chris’s shoulders, causing welts, which caused the rough pounding to increase even more, taking Wesker even higher.

Chris gripped Wesker's face to pull him down and press their foreheads together, gasping, “I want to see you. I want to see all of you. I want to see you cum again and again and again and then beg me for more!”

Wesker cried out at the demand, attacking the vicious mouth that had asked so much of him, yet he would gladly let Chris take him to new levels and plains to push his limits and then some.

Wesker’s POV suddenly changed, and he was staring up at the night sky over Chris’s shoulder. He could feel the rock under them suddenly strain from the pummeling onslaught against his body, the pounding cock trying to bury deeper into his very soul. Wesker’s eyes widened as he felt the rock under him crack from the vicious pounding movement, causing him to arch up at the sudden unevenness.

Suddenly pulling back from the clenching tight heat, Chris folded Wesker’s legs up and pressed his hands into the underside of Wesker’s knees to force the older man’s legs over his shoulders, bending the writhing body in half and retaking the displayed clenching hole and not holding back any of his strength, tearing an anguished sound from Wesker that echoed across the roaring falls as the rock under them strained and cracked even more.

Chris panted harshly, watching darkly at the fluttering of expressions on Wesker’s face, hissing, “You remember this?!”

Wesker could barely comprehend the question, and it took several rough pounding moments, but it finally clicked. Taking deep, gasping breaths in between his words, Wesker managed to choke out, “Yes… I… remember… this…”

As much as Chris would have loved to repeat his efforts from the first time he had fucked Wesker, there was no way he would last long enough to bring the older man through two intense orgasms, still being sensitive from their multiple earlier prompts.

Baring teeth as he tried to hold back his orgasm as long as he could, Chris panted against Wesker’s sweat-slicked face and changed the angle of his trusts, which caused Wesker to jolt violently and bring his arms forward to wrap around Chris’s shoulders as well as his current position would allow, a loud wail ripped from the pale throat, body clenching up like a winding spring.

Chris kept hitting the same spot over and over and over. Each time he did, Wesker’s eyes opened wider and wider, breaths ragged almost to the point of hyperventilation, fingers clenching desperately at the sweat-drenched shoulders and damp hair of the man above him, trying to find a handhold as he was bulldozed further into the crumbling rock at his back, the tight spring his body had coiled itself into on the verge of release.

Time froze.

In that single moment, only the two of them existed, and a plethora of emotions crossed time and space to be shared between them.

Every moment they had been intimate passed through the static in Wesker’s brain as it felt like his body imploded.

Filtering through the mind-numbing static, that if everything in his life transpired down to a single moment of happiness, it was this.

Wesker would not change anything. Would follow the same path just to reach this mind-shattering euphoria of being a part of someone else in their entirety.

All the suffering and hate, pain and anguish, and the ebbs and flows of their intertwined lives were worth reaching this exact moment.

Because one could not truly exist without the other.

The sounds of two souls that somehow, someway, had found each other in a world full of hate and lies and heartbreak penetrated the calm summer night air, letting everything and everyone within hearing distance know that they had found a way to be in totality.

And the world knew everything was where it should be.

.....

Standing on violently shaking legs, Wesker was indeed impressed and incredibly satisfied, despite still being able to stand albeit unsteadily. Chris had mostly held up to Wesker’s request. Even with his enhanced healing, he was deliciously sore.

Using his briefs, Wesker wiped himself down as much as he could before pulling his pants up gently and pocketing the soiled undergarment.

Chris opted for the river water only to be chastised by Wesker’s frowning glare, “You do you realize how filthy this water is?”

Chris grinned and splashed himself in the face, “People swim in it all the time. Plus, I just fucked you in it, didn’t I?”

Returning the remark with a stoic expression, Wesker had nothing to retort to the truth of that statement.

After cleaning up the best he could and fully dressed, Wesker leaned heavily against a nearby tree, still feeling deep tremors run through his legs and lower back, waiting for Chris to finish.

Glancing up as he slid his shoes on, Wesker’s tremors did not go unnoticed, and Chris grinned, “I am surprised you are still standing. Would you like me to carry you back?”

Wesker contemplated thoughtfully for a moment as he stared at Chris buttoning up his shirt, the buttons of which had miraculously survived their passionate lovemaking. Without saying anything, Wesker shuffled gently forward to reach down and clasped his hand around Chris’s, smiling contently at the matching silver on their opposite wrists, pulling him up and forward for a small kiss. Despite the vibrating tremble running through his core, Wesker relented, “No, this is perfect. I can walk, but let’s take our time.”

Chris grinned as he nuzzled into Wesker’s neck tenderly as they slowly started making their way back towards their vehicle, “You can walk, huh? I guess I’ll need to try harder next time.” Chris pulled back, “Oh, speaking of next time, a new family is moving in across the way. It might be time we look for something a bit bigger? More private and… soundproof.”

Wesker stopped his calculated steps and chuckled, “How… domesticating.”

Chris laughed back, “Come on now. I’ve been working you for almost a year! You just never noticed. Anyways you solidified it by saying ‘yes.’ No backsies.”

Wesker chuckled outright, tugging Chris’s hand to resume their leisurely pace, “Indeed I did. Now, if only you would learn to clean up after yourself.”

Chris pouted, “I can clean up after myself. I just choose not to. Though if you are willing to make another bet…”

Wesker paused again, a dark look shadowing over his face, hissing, “I said no more bets!”

Chris grinned darkly, “Don’t lie! You fucking loved it. You loved every second of it.”

Wesker turned his nose up, resuming his pace, “I loved you bringing out the worst in me… just not… that fucking apron!”

Chris could not stop the cackle, “But you looked so fucking hot and fuckable in it!” Wesker forcefully tossed Chris’s hand away from him, grumbling that Chris had tricked him into it, which of course, he did. Chris pressed a gentle hand on Wesker’s back, “Oh, don’t be like that, Albert. It was that moment you truly learned that you loved being choked.”

Wesker grumbled incoherently, muttering ‘dirty bastard’ under his breath, but allowed his hand to be reclaimed.

Chris excitedly bounced, jolting Wesker’s frame, causing a low hiss and a grimace to escape the calm façade, “You’re one to talk! Exhibitionist!’

The grimace faltered into a sly grin as Wesker choked out, “You started it!”

Chris rolled his eyes, “It would have never started if we didn’t make that bet.”

A short silence followed, and then a relenting Wesker side-eyed Chris, who was staring at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. Finally, Wesker let out an irritated breath, muttered begrudgingly, “Touché.”

There was a long silence, and Chris was tempted to repeat the finale of their bet now that he was reminiscing about it but decided to give Wesker a reprieve. They could play later in the hope their new neighbors would be out working.

Trying to switch topics, Chris asked in a chipper tone, “I guess we should start looking at houses then? Because I know you aren’t going to stay quiet. Not anymore.”

Despite his irritation, Wesker chuckled, “Somewhere in acceptable distance. Hmmm, what did you have in mind?”

Chris excitedly started spouting out requirements, “Privacy, of course. Probably some space between neighbors. Thick walls. A large bedroom… large shower… large tub… hmm… what else?”

Wesker angled his gaze over towards Chris, “I’d like an office certainly. Hmm, a large kitchen island perhaps?”

Chris grinned like a Cheshire cat, knowing where this was going, “Everything would have to be thoroughly broken in.”

Wesker responded in kind, knowing full well the kind of breaking in Chris meant, “Well. I don’t know. We did just crack a rock. Kitchen counters and tables might not be safe locations anymore.”

Chris held up his free hand, correcting Wesker by pointing to himself, “I cracked YOU into a rock.”

Wesker swept his eyes over and could not help the shark-like grin, “Next time, I’ll break you over a rock.”

Wide-eyed and shoulders puffed up, Chris excitedly retorted, “Is that a challenge?”

Wesker could not help the hearty laugh, “Perhaps.”

The gentle pull on his hand halted Wesker’s trajectory back to the vehicle and pulled him into a gentle embrace, yellow eyes lighting up with excitement, “Well then, I bet you can’t.”

Wesker was silent, not falling for the trap. And it was a trap. It always was. Without saying anything, he resumed their pace.

The silver brows furrowed as Chris whined, “Oh, come on! It will be fun! No aprons! I swear! Just some good ol’ rock pounding!”

Wesker smirked, turning away, pretending to be hesitant, curiosity getting the better of him, “What pray tell are you wagering?”

Stepping closer, Chris grinned, eyes blazing and teeth glistening in the moonlight, which caused Wesker to slightly regret asking, “Oh, maybe something you would certainly enjoy. Say along the lines of semi-public fucking.”

Wesker tossed his head back, unable to contain the deep barking laughter, “You know my weakness so well, Dearheart.”

Trying to trick Wesker, Chris pursued, “What would you wager then?”

Humming, Wesker pretending to think, tongue sticking out the corner of one lip and eyes shining in delight, “Semi-public fucking but… knowing your ex-protégé was around to hear it… Or better yet, see it.”

Chris cringed slightly, shoulders hunching as he remembered an enticing dream from a few weeks earlier. One he had already punished Wesker for, for making him create the scenario in the first place. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, “You drive a hard bargain, Albert.”

Unable to keep his own excitement in check, Wesker pulled Chris flush against his side, “I’ll certainly be driving something. That I can promise.”

Enjoying the closeness and bristling heat radiating off Wesker’s body, Chris agreed, “Shake on it?”

Somehow, Chris had a deep suspicion that Wesker was trying to sneak him into a threesome with Piers. Not that he would really mind, but something about office romances tending to disrupt the workflow.

Wesker brought their clasped hands up, “Why the hell not. I did promise the pup a good show, after all.”

Chris chuckled, “I am pretty sure I punished you for it too.” Gazing over, Chris could not help the deep rumbling in his chest, “You are so fucking dirty, and I absolutely fucking love you for it.”

Wesker shrugged in agreement, “Well, I was corrupted by a pro.”

Cackling at the fold memories, Chris did not deny the accusation, “Ahh, so very true. Home?”

Finally, having arrived back at their vehicle, they gazed at one another. Wesker sighed, handing over the keys, “Home. You drive. I’m still a bit sore.”

Chris held a hand to his mouth, trying not to sputter, “Well, I can kiss it and make it better once we get there!”

Dropping Chris’s hand once more, Wesker shuffled over to the passenger side with a death glare, “Dick.”

Whipping tears away, Chris coughed slightly, “Oh, you love it!”

“Shut. Up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the dream itself is referenced in Desecration Drabbles and Shorts in Chapter 11: Would you… https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393435/chapters/67723885
> 
> Newlyweds comment is in the second section of The Desecration of Icarus’s Chapter 9: Destination of Truth https://archiveofourown.org/works/24243640/chapters/61504663
> 
> The bet is mentioned in Chapters 2 & 3 of the same name in Desecration Drabbles https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393435/chapters/61630174#workskin 
> 
> I’ve come to realize I’ve totally fucked up my timeline for this entire thing. So, at some point, I will be making that gigantic edit to match the time frame of canon March for their time in Africa and not fall. Who knows when I will get around to it, though.
> 
> I was not lying in my post notes from Binge Escape about smut for days. I’m just getting started. I have stuff planned for The Courting and Encounters and some stand-alone, as well as new ideas for multiple chapters for both Desecration and Sacrifice Drabbles.
> 
> Now, if I only had the energy to work on them more.


	7. Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker stood, slamming his hands against the table, his voice rising in anger and panic, teeth bared and holding back a barely constrained snarl, “Prioritize! Get Ammar’s team on collection management ASAP. I want to know everything there is to know about everything at these facilities! We need to utilize every asset—!?”
> 
> A hand touched his shoulder, and Wesker jerked violently away from it, the snarl erupting finally until he realized it was only Chris, concern etched across furrowed brows of his lover. Chris had not seen Wesker like this in a long, long time. Not since before he fixed his virus, and he reached out again to try and reassure the older man.
> 
> Jill tried to reduce the tension by using her reasoning voice, “Wesker, we can’t just storm in. We already tried that, and lives were lost. The cost is too high and a risk we cannot take at this point.”
> 
> Wesker paced back and forth, keeping eyes on Chris’s concerned gaze yet avoiding the younger man, not wanting to upset him with his roiling emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the end for a tad while. Hopefully, you have enjoyed reading this. This chapter has been slowly outlined since before I finished 4, 5, and 6 so I knew where I was taking this entire ending, I was just getting too sidetracked. I did my best writing a specific part that was a bit outside my knowledge, but I am hopeful it will be received well.
> 
> I have no clue how the hell I cranked out Desecration with weekly chapters. I was writing 2-4 page discussion responses for college, 15-20+ page papers, and writing Desecration on top of that. Now I drag my feet trying to crank out stuff in 2-4 weeks.

Chris sucked in deep breaths of air, “Fuck… fucking Christ, Albert!” Trying to gain oxygen back into his lungs as the crescendo of his orgasm wound down, his body trembling violently. Wesker’s face a euphoric vision above him between pain and complete gratification as he was still in the throes of his equally powerful climax, teeth bared and sweat dripping, his muscles straining as he continued to pound deeply into the claimed figure beneath him that had sunk into a pulverized body-sized crater of crumbled glacial erratic.

Wesker’s eyes blazed fiercely, a vicious grin cracking his face, “ **I** … **WIN**!” The words accentuated by harsh plunges of his still throbbing cock, ripping small chuckling gasps from Chris. Wesker had indeed won.

Chris had bet Wesker that he could not break him over a rock, and for once, Chris was deeply wrong of what Wesker’s viral strength was capable of as he lay panting, sweat-drenched, and confined by the older man’s body in a tightly compact mating press. Chris’s hands gripped the powerful gluteus maximus of Wesker’s ass, assisting in the continued motions.

Chris’s brain could barely comprehend the position Wesker had maneuvered him into, much less care. His ass was deliciously sore as the rough pounding slowed to sensual thrusts, causing Chris to grunt with each deep press despite the rock shards digging into his back.

Wesker groaned as he slowly rested fully against his captive, conquering the panting mouth and generously lavishing it with attention. Chris muttered in between attacks, “You continue… to amaze me… Love. I swear… you are… still… holding out… on me.”

Wesker grinned, trying to hold back chuckles, “Of course not… Dearheart. I would… never.”

.....

Finally pulling back and releasing Chris from his confined position, he flopped next to the still panting figure who stretched his body, giving his muscles a break.

Staring up at the night sky and smirking, Wesker teased his lover, who was dusting rock crumbles off his backside in order to lay against him. Wesker mumbled in passing thought, “Maybe you breaking my wrist **was** a fluke.”

Chris chuckled as he slapped the sweaty chest, “Do you want to try it again, Albert?”

Angling his head to the side slightly to scowl at such a suggestion, “Not particularly, Christopher.”

The scowl melted into a sly grin, Wesker taunting the younger man, “Likely, I just have more ability to control my strength than you.”

Leaning up, Chris placed a chaste kiss against the grin, “Well then, we need to work on that, don’t we?”

Arms wrapped around Chris’s shoulders, one dragging up to grip his hair slightly, pulling him down against Wesker’s chest, who agreed, smirking, as he licked his lower lip, purring, “How much longer will your sister be visiting?”

Chris jerked back against the pull slightly, confusion furrowing his brows, “That… is an odd thing to ask after just fucking me into a crevice—." Wesker immediately corrected him, "Indentation."

Chris was silent a moment, eyes narrowed in irritation at Wesker's Cheshire cat grin, "I’m not sure... Why?”

Wesker smirked, pulling Chris back down, “Just curious.” Still wary of the question, Chris was unconvinced by the sly expression but allowed himself to be pulled down for his mouth to be reclaimed.

Scheming internally, Wesker had an idea of how to get her to leave. Or at least not be up Chris’s ass all the time now that he was up and moving.

.....

Chris settled down on the couch as he finished drying his hair, Wesker slowly moving his legs to make room, engrossed in The Fall, “Alright, Albert, since you won. What are you proposing?”

Wesker grinned, rubbing his hands together menacingly as his eyes never left the screen, “Well…. I am not 100% certain it would work, but… well, maybe if we end up moving sooner than later. Could play it off as an innocent misplacement of time.”

Chris eyed the TV and the bright scene enfolding, a variety of unlikely characters working together, “Like walking into an ambush? That’s not really semi-public sex now, is it?”

Wesker ignored him, having been sucked back into the movie.

Chris nudged Wesker’s leg, slightly startling him, “Oh well, we can do that too. We know where all the security cameras are. Can plan something. Or wing it. Whichever.”

Chris stared at the slackening face as he was engrossed once more, “I can’t talk to you when you are sucked into a show.”

Wesker immediately corrected him, “It’s a film.”

Chris huffed with a small smile, but when he made to get up, Wesker’s legs anchored into his lap, keeping him in place, “Are you sure you want to play this game?” Wesker smirked but kept watching, “What game, Dearheart?”

A calloused hand slid up Wesker’s leg, tickling along the skin until it reached the inside of his knee, where it menacingly dug into the flesh there. Chris was flipped so fast, it caused the couch to creak loudly from the rough movement. The gray-haired man now captured against Wesker’s chest, holding him in place, strong legs having wrapped around his prosthetic legs to keep the younger man from squirming.

Wesker buried his face into Chris's damp hair, eyes still on the TV, “You made me miss a good part, now I have to start from the beginning. And… you are going to watch.”

Chris groaned, testing his bound limbs, finally relenting and relaxing to watch with his lover, “If I stay, get the damn blanket. You know I always fall asleep out here this late.”

Chris indeed fell asleep halfway through, which impressed Wesker greatly. Usually, Chris fell asleep 20 minutes into anything past 2200. Having abandoned the movie to watch Chris sleep, memorizing the contours of his lover’s features and feeling his slow rise and fall of his back through their skin-to-skin contact.

Wesker drew his fingers along the cover of Chris’s prosthetic arm, still amazed at the technological wonder and so very thankful for his acquaintance who so gladly agreed to help. There were subtle changes due to the trauma Chris had experienced and was regularly seeing Dr. Bishop, but Wesker would gladly have this Chris than a broken shell of himself. Chris was his anchor, and he was not about to let anything stand in the way of their bond. Not even death itself.

Feeling exhausted after such an eventful day, Wesker melted himself into Chris’s relaxed form and allowed sleep to finally claim him, letting Chris’s heartbeat lull him to oblivion.

*****

Days and weeks passed by, and Chris slowly resumed work in the training halls, complaining he was bored out of his mind. He was allowed to return after wandering through the labs, pestering Wesker and his team to no end with incessant questions. Wesker finally could not keep stopping to explain every detail to his partner and dragged Chris into Dr. Bishop’s office, begging her to permit Chris to at least return to light duty. That Chris was well enough to be a ceaseless pest to him and his colleagues and to give him work to do.

Chris tried to hide the evil smirk he made behind Wesker’s back as he was marched into the Doctor’s office with an irate Wesker dragging him along. Snapping his head back, Wesker had to do a double-take to realize this was Chris’s plan all along, “You shit! You did this on purpose!” Chris shrugged, “It worked, didn’t it?”

Wesker flung the arm away he had a tight grip on and snapped at the gray-haired man, frustrated at how much of a conniving asshole Chris could be when he was bored. Staring at Chris sternly but addressing Dr. Bishop, “Send him back to push papers, to the mailroom, a… a… dishwasher! Anything to get him out of my hair!” And with a huff, Wesker marched back to his office, lab coat tails trailing behind his rapidly retreating form.

Chris yelled at the retreating back with a smirk, “I love you, too!”

Turning, hands crossed over his chest and looking very smug with himself, Chris beamed with satisfaction, “So, where’s my release paperwork, Doc?”

Dr. Bishop laughed once Wesker was well out of earshot, “You are obviously feeling better, Chris. Enough to go back to light duty. Would that be acceptable?” Chris was almost jumping for joy, his grin widening. “I am losing my damn mind!” Coughing and clearing his throat at the slight frown, “I mean, that would be absolutely perfect, Doctor. Whatever you recommend is better than walking around feeling helpless.”

Shuffling around some papers, Dr. Bishop pulled out the forms she had set out, knowing it would not take long for Chris to find his way to her office, “Alright, let’s see. I doubt I could accommodate putting you as a dishwasher, so that is a no-go, so…you know what… I’ll just put you back where you were. If you start feeling off, please come see me. And I’d rather it be you making that decision and not Albert dragging you in by your ears.”

Chris laughed, “Finally, someone who isn’t treating me like a fragile doll.” She agreed as she filled out his paperwork, “You are very resilient, Chris. With as much darkness you have encountered in your life, it is a good quality to have.”

Chris lowered his eyes, frowning and shifting his feet, “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

She looked at him, her writing stopped, examining the quick change in his expression, “I am always here for you. Chris. And Albert, too. Please don’t be a stranger. You’re not out of the woods yet, but working will get you back on your feet quicker.”

The smile returned, but it did not meet his eyes, “Thanks, Doc, I appreciate it.”

With a soft knowing look, she handed him his paperwork, and he took it, thanking her and made his way to his upper management. They had to let him work now. It was the very distraction he needed as much as he loved pestering Wesker.

.....

As time went by and Chris healed more and came back to his usual perky self, he started training with Wesker. He needed to learn how to manifest and accentuate his strength and when to pull it back in order to handle delicate things, like the twins. Chris had broken plates and cups on accident when he forgot to adjust his grip. It scared him some, afraid he would accidentally forget and hurt one of the infants, but Wesker reassured him that he would be just fine.

So, they resumed hand-to-hand combat. Wesker teaching Chris how he was able to manipulate his strength and utilize it to his utmost ability. The prosthetics giving him an even bigger edge as his combat-specific limbs had been completed, compiled of more durable materials and alloys to withstand an enhanced BOW’s blows if they ever came face-to-face with them again, and they would, and Chris would be ready.

At times, Chris would lose control, and their combat would invoke bloodlust, which escalated into violence, causing Wesker’s own viral temperament to disintegrate. Ultimately the bloodlust and violence would quickly develop into arousal, and several spars turned into fight sex.

They always would do their combat during late hours and requested the gym to themselves, not wanting prying eyes for soldiers and BSAA agents to develop a fear of them. Fear of what Chris and Wesker truly were if they saw them use their full strength.

It was during one of these duals that Chris discovered his breaking of Wesker’s wrist was not a fluke, having pulled back from repeating the action and leaving Wesker with a sprained wrist. Chris had backed off, shocked by what he had almost done, but Wesker reassured him quickly, to not fear his own strength, that these hand-to-hand sessions were to help to control and maintain control.

Reluctantly, Wesker called the session quits due to the pacing mess Chris had become, not able to take his eyes away from the hand-shaped bruise surrounding Wesker’s pale skin despite it quickly fading. Wesker continued to reassure him as they wiped down the equipment they had used, making their way home for a relaxing, quiet evening.

It did not take Wesker long to heal the sprain, and Chris understood that but seeing it and being told how violent he had reacted after the transfusion left him unnerved. Wesker doted on him, trying to give the younger man a perspective on how his strength was a positive side-effect. Holding the younger man against him, feeling the anxiety waft off him, Wesker was finally able to reassure Chris, “Christopher, there might come a time when I cannot protect myself. That I may be severely injured. Again. And I will need you to be there to protect me this time. Things are going to get much more difficult from here on out, and I don’t want you to feel burdened by your strength. I need you to embrace it. We are not certain of what to expect in this war but know this. I need you… to be there... for me. Even if it might seem impossible."

Chris was silent but understood what was required of him as he was pulled tighter in the older man’s embrace. Smiling sadly, Wesker wiped away the few tears that had fallen down Chris’s cheeks, stroking the salt tracks away and placing chaste kisses over each eyelid. Chris molded himself around Wesker, unconsciously stroking the wrist he had damaged until he passed out from exhaustion.

.....

In between Chris’s pestering to return to work and the combat sessions, the happy couple had started looking at available houses on and off the campus. Trying to decide if it would be safe to leave the perimeter of the campus.

Looking at all options with specifics they had already agreed upon. It had almost become a chore to look at what was coming on the market and if they matched their specs.

Money was of no concern as they had both been saving a majority of their salary for a rainy day, and what better way to spend it but on a place they could call their own. Jill and Claire tried to help but seemingly just blindly pointed out anything with a nice yard. Chris and Wesker wanted privacy. It had been touch and go with some of their neighbors the past years who were not remotely keen on hearing how healthy their love life was. Chris sniggered to Wesker one night after being scolded by an elderly woman that she was just jealous she wasn't getting as much cock as they were.

Now with a family across the way, they felt overly self-conscious and held back some of their more exuberant lovemaking exploits. It was slightly depressing knowing they would be leaving their cozy residence, but they needed room to expand out and really settle in the area. There was also the possibility they would be bringing the twins home, but that was not entirely agreed upon.

Overall, it was a huge step in their relationship and brought giddy excitement along with it. Wesker would always deny it, but he was more excited than he thought he would have been. Just another step towards his and Chris’s dedication to their bond and a shared future.

.....

Also, in the interim, Chris had noticed that Piers and Claire had become an unlikely pair of sorts, and he could not tell if they were just friends or if one or both were just really awkwardly flirting with each other. Either way, it was hilarious to watch the budding connection with Claire acting as if she was a new soldier in the section, punching shoulders and laughing loudly at the horrid stories they were probably telling her about his crazy schemes.

Chris chuckled at the thought that Piers couldn’t have one Redfield, that he would lay claim to the other. Chris had not told Wesker about it yet, the older man slightly oblivious at times when Claire was around. Not that he could blame either for not trusting the other in the slightest, so he didn’t want to approach the subject just to get a haughty response from the older man.

Overhearing a particularly embarrassing story, he had to yell over the howling laugher, “Don’t be telling her lies now. I don’t need her ears bleeding.” One of his newer transfers, Aikawa, yelled out in reassurance, “Never Capt’n, we are taking good care of your little sis!” Aikawa chuckled as a quick punch landed against his bicep, and the young soldier stepped away from Claire, hands up in mock defense.

Chris was very proud of Claire, having come a long way from where this whole mess started in Raccoon City. He watched her enthusiastic expression as she listened intently to his soldiers. Chris’s expression became sincere, seeing her resilience that he himself bore with both sadness and pride. They were survivors, and every time it saved his and Claire's asses, he sent a thankful prayer to their parents, who he knew were watching out for them from wherever they were.

*****

After much long debating, Chris and Wesker decide on the twin’s future. Wesker would not be taking full custody of them and was in the process of choosing worthy candidates for their adoption. Of course, they would be close to home and would not be going far, staying with a family on campus. Despite the incredible pain that tore his heart apart in making such a decision, Wesker knew it would be safer for them to be raised in a normalized home and away from the violent battles he and Chris would soon be engaged in.

Their battle against Free Arcadia was only just starting, and they were going in blind. Wesker could only imagine that Free Arcadia already knew that the BSAA took the twins before the facility exploded. Wesker also knew that Free Arcadia might be searching for them. To reclaim their ‘property.’ Wesker had made sure every scan that could be safely was administered to the twins, looking for any kind of tracking device but finding none. At least none captured on any of the scans.

Weary, Wesker wanted to be sure they were safe, healthy, loved, and received a normal upbringing. Not like what he had experienced, rushing headfirst into studies and losing his childish wonder at a very young age. It didn’t matter what the family dynamic was, as long as they love the twins as if they were their own. That is all that mattered. He and Chris would be their ‘uncle’ and godfathers and would see them often enough.

After long consideration, Wesker had finally chosen a close colleague he had worked with since his arrival in DC and his wife Sasha, a schoolteacher.

Wesker had been working with Dre for the majority of his research and development for his approved proposal. They had a very good working relationship and were like-minded with similar goals and opinions. Dre had confided in Wesker long before the twins' arrival at his frustration at his and Sasha's inability to bear children and how it had taken a toll on their relationship.

Dre and his wife Sacha both had health issues throughout their lives, and neither could have biological children of their own. Dre had decided, before he had met Sasha, that due to having severe endometriosis, to have an FTM hysterectomy. Even if he never had the surgery, he would have been unlikely to carry with as severe as his diagnosis was. Sasha has PCOS, and despite them trying with donor sperm and several rounds of IVF, the few that were successful did not make it past eight weeks.

Overtime, Dre discussed adoption with Wesker, that he and Sasha were reluctant to try and put applications in despite there being anti-discrimination laws in DC. They had talked it over but always came just shy of submitting the forms, worried that it wasn’t the right time. Wesker tried to reassure his friend and colleague that the right time would come.

That was until the twins made their unruly arrival in Wesker’s life, and he learned that there is never a right time for children. There will always be something happening that a child would disrupt. Still, as a parent, no matter how many challenges a child’s introduction could be in their lives, it would be precious and should be viewed as a blessing and loved unconditionally. At least that was Wesker’s thoughts as he rocked Astraea as her brother Augustus napped.

.....

Dre and Sasha had visited the twins on several occasions just to coo at how much they resembled Wesker and marvel at their existence. They had teased Wesker that they would grow up to become geniuses just like their father. Wesker didn’t know what to say as he had not told them at that point that they were basically clones, so he gave a half-smile in mock agreement.

When he finally asked them, there was a long silence between the two couples, Chris having joined them for dinner after he and Wesker agreed Dre and Sasha would be great parents and gave his blessings. When Wesker tossed the topic on the table, the two stared in disbelief, Sasha breaking down in tears as she put a hand to her mouth in shock. Dre had grabbed Sasha’s hand that was resting on the table, absolute disbelief and slight reluctance in his expression.

Dre could not stop his jaw from trembling, “What? What are you really asking of us, Albert?”

Wesker looked over nervously at Chris. There was still so much to discuss, and this was why they had chosen a quiet, out-of-the-way place to have this conversation, not trusting any place to be truly secure anymore. Returning to Dre, Wesker spoke softly, “I trust you that you will love and care for Augustus and Astraea as your own. That you will protect them at all costs. They…”

Wesker had to pause, taking a breath as he looked at Chris’s hands that were wrapped around his own, “They are not just my… children.” The confusion and intake of breath from Sasha was not unexpected as he continued, “They are me.”

Dre’s face scrunched in confusion, “What? That’s… impossible! We don’t have that kind of tech…”

Wesker’s face hardened, and he squeezed his hand into a tight fist under the grounding support of his lover, “It **is** possible. Free Arcadia has advanced their tech far beyond what we could even imagine. Enough that they created almost perfect… replicas.”

The couples discussed more of how the twins had come to be, which caught the couple by surprise, both amazed and horrified. Dre knew extensively of Wesker’s background, having become a trusted friend and colleague in helping Wesker fix his damaged tyrant virus and learning much of the blonde’s tragic past.

"Will you consider our offer. To adopt Auggie and Astra and love, cherish, and raise them. Let them be children for as long as we are able. Of course, on the condition, they are to be discretely monitored for any changes in appearance and behavior. Chris and I won’t be far and can assist whenever you need a break. I… We… can be considered their uncles or godparents if that helps. They are already a handful, but…" Wesker drifted, his voice softening as his eyes glazed behind the dark shades he wore. It had been some time since he drifted but thinking of the mission months ago brought back a crippling unpleasantness, and he was back in that lab, bleeding heavily, barely holding back losing his mind as he stared at the twins. That they even existed in the first place. That they were a miracle despite the purpose of their birth.

Chris squeezed his hand, and Wesker snapped back. Dre was already used to the small lapses and not pressing the trailing off of his words, "... but are a true gift and... I want to share this gift with you. Knowing in my heart that you both will protect and cherish them."

.....

After the dinner, and they parted ways, giving the couple a chance to discuss the offer in privacy, Chris admitted to Wesker he had never met a transgender person before. Wesker smiled and gave him a small squeeze of his hand, “Just treat him as any father-to-be, they will need a lot of support, and we won’t be far.”

Wesker chuckled suddenly, but the way his mouth drooped slightly, Chris knew the deep ache in the older man’s heart, “I feel like I dropped an atomic bomb on their heads. They had no idea I was going to ask them this. They thought it was just a nice dinner excursion away from the labs.” There was silence, and Chris could feel the subtle tremble of Wesker’s frame, and he pulled the blonde into his arms, a hand gently tugging Wesker’s face down to hide in his shoulder.

Chris could understand the sadness. The bond between Wesker and the twins was powerful, and he had said on many occasions that they felt like a piece of him. Chris could feel it, and it grew stronger with every interaction he observed. Wesker quietly whispered, his voice slightly muffled by Chris’s shirt, “I knew this would be hard, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t imagine it being this hard.”

Chris shushed him softly as he felt Wesker’s shoulders jump and slowly rocked them to sway slightly together to an unspoken tune, “I could say it will be ok, but we both know that’s a lie. I know that you want them to stay and you don’t have to say it. I’m saying it for you. All we can do is hope that they will be safe and protected with Sasha and Dre.” Wesker made a small sound and dug his hands into the back of Chris’s shirt, but not so much as to rip the material.

Wesker choked out quietly, “Fuck you and your stupid mind reading!” They stood in the dark for several more minutes until Wesker sniffled and retreated from the embrace, wiping at his eyes under his shades. Chris patted Wesker’s back, “Home, Love?”

Wesker finished scrubbing as his reddened cheeks, one hand slightly gripping Chris’s bicep, a tether that he wasn’t alone, “Home.”

That evening was a rare event of just cuddling, relaxation, and bonding. Happiness knowing full well the couple would accept their offer, yet sadness at the loss of a chance at parenthood. Lying awake in bed, Chris murmured against Wesker’s temple, lightly stroking the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, “We’ll be right here for them. You work so closely with Dre, and I am sure he will share and send pictures and tell you stories at how they run amuck and drive them up the wall.” Wesker chuckled, knowing full well Chis was right, yet could not shake the sorrow that had settled deeply into his soul.

.....

This was it. This was the day the twins would be going home with Dre and Sasha. Their mother and father.

The twins had been situated in the nursery since their arrival and under the dedicated care and watchful eye of Val. They would go home to a normal household not complicated with viral enhancements and raging hormones. As much as Wesker did surprisingly want to be the twins' father, he had doubts that he would make a good one, getting overwhelmed with work at times and enjoying his privacy with Chris way too much. It was a selfish excuse, but an excuse all the same. He trusted Dre, and in turn, Sasha. If something were wrong, he would know. Wesker would always know because he and the twins were imprinted with a protective bond. A bond Wesker would gladly give his life for.

Chris rubbed at his neck nervously, not wanting to say the wrong thing and trying his best not to overthink everything, “You’ll be a great dad, I know it!” Dre smiled as he held Astraea, gently examining her tiny fingers, and the goofiest, most joyous expression melted over Dre’s face, “I never thought I would get the chance… to be a dad, that is.” Dre’s eyes never left Astraea’s, full of wondrous curiosity of who this new person was. But then the infant smiled, wholly accepting the new person, knowing that their heart was pure.

Wesker was showing Sasha some diaper changing and swaddling techniques that the twins could not wiggle their way out of, and she was mesmerized by how much the two so vastly resembled Wesker, “I can’t get over how beautiful they are. So much like you.” Wesker froze a second until Sasha quickly backtracked, “I mean… that is… that they look so much like you. I’m just going to stop talking now.” She blushed, tittering in nervousness, and continued watching as Wesker resumed, a small gracious twitch of his lips at the compliment. There were two other people in the world who had ever called him beautiful and meant it, and one of them was chatting up a storm on the other side of the room. The other. Well, the other, he would rather not think about as he would never be seen again.

Wesker agreed as he handled the tightly swaddled child over to his mother, which Sasha, without hesitation, held the babe gently in her arms, cooing, already well versed in the rocking hip sway that all parents seem to discover. The tiny infant had switched between smiling and a deeply inquisitive expression as he shifted his gaze back and forth between Wesker and Sasha, finally settling on content gurgles.

Wesker and Chris stepped back, allowing the new parents to gush over their new family. It was beautiful seeing such joy on their faces after so much struggle and heartbreak. Wesker had wrapped an arm around Chris’s shoulders, pulling him close and trying to keep his expression neutral despite his emotions crashing around inside like a Cat 5 hurricane. The deep, gut-wrenching guilt was weighing down on him from all sides, it seemed. That he felt like he was abandoning them despite his good intentions.

Chris pressed a hand against Wesker’s lower back, gently rubbing the old injury to comfort the older man, “It might not feel like it now, but you made a good choice.”

Wesker stiffened, slightly tilting his gaze at the gray-haired man beside him, “Oh, and what makes you an expert on life choices?”

Pressing a little deeper, Chris snorted, “I raised my sister on my own remember, and… it took its toll. Don’t get me wrong. I love Claire. I’d die for her. But, we can’t drag them into our war.” Wesker huffed but reluctantly agreed.

.....

At the end of the day, Dre and Sasha were exhausted, looking down at their new bundles of joy. Finally, the twins were asleep, and based on Val’s observations, they had about eight hours before they woke back up again. Val also told them to sleep when the twins slept, so they were getting ready to call it a night when Sasha noticed that a Teddy Ruxpin bear had somehow made its way into one of the bags.

Pulling it out in slight confusion, she turned to Dre, “Hun, did you notice where this came from?” He stepped forward, grasping the bear and turning it over, “No, I don’t remember anyone saying anything about it.” He noticed a tape housed in the cradle of the doll’s back. Popping it open out of curiosity, he examined the tape. Dre grinned as he read the label out loud, “In case of excessive whining.”

Giggling, Sasha beckoned him to the living room and well away from the slumbering twins' ears. Putting the tape back in, they sat on the couch with the doll sitting on the coffee table. After a bit of crackling, they heard Chris’s voice waft from the recording. He had secretly made tapes for the twins, singing them their favorite songs with soft guitar strings to help flow the melodies along.

Sasha started to tear up as Dre put his arm around her and pulling her onto his shoulder, smiling brightly, “That is the sweetest dang thing I’ve ever heard!”

Chris actually could sing fairly well, and Dre had caught the gray-haired man singing to the twins who were absolutely transfixed upon every word. It was so serene he had quietly stepped away as to let Chris do his magic. Dre laughed gently, “He said I’d be a great dad.” Sasha agreed, also swept up in the singing, “He’ll make an awesome uncle, that’s for sure.”

Exhausted beyond their wildest dreams, but a good exhausted, they called it a night. They certainly had their hands full with the twins, but they were a blessing all the same.

*****

After helping Sasha and Dre get settled over the next several weeks whom both had requested for parental leave, Wesker and Chris had house shopped and shopped and shopped and finally found a beautiful architectural wonder that had almost everything they had wanted, including a spacious unfinished basement which they greedily made plans for even before the final purchase. Neighbors were also scarce, and there was enough privacy that no one would be knocking on their door to quiet down.

It was on campus but further than their little residence but had three times the space. Enough room for visitors or the twins to give the new parents a break since Chris and Wesker have been ‘parents’ since Wesker and Jill had brought the twins home from the mission.

When the day came to move in finally, Chris had been teasing Wesker he was going to carry him over the threshold like a blushing bride, but before Chris managed to get to maneuver to pick Wesker up, he was roughly tossed over Wesker’s shoulder and carried in kicking and screaming. Wesker grinned like a shark ear to ear as he carried the squirming figure into what would be their bedroom suite, which had a perfectly placed wideset bay window overlooking the backyard, and made passionate love reveling in the moment of a new step in their relationship.

The privacy had unexpectedly brought a tranquility they had not expected nor ever remember having ever. Chris mumbled at one point as they were lazing after a long day of unpacking why they had not moved sooner. Wesker shrugged, equally exhausted next to him, still in the throes of wonderment himself. It certainly was a lovely home. A place just for them. It needed some work and upgrades, but in time it would be their little heaven away from the blood and death they faced on a constant basis.

Time settled and with it a domesticated routine, work, sex, meals, rest, and chores. Chris having had time to heal and receiving a clean bill of health to return to full duty, started going on missions once more. Small field exercises and training excursions.

The BSAA had yet to further pursue Free Arcadia, which caused Wesker to start to be on edge, convinced that they were wasting time. Chris brought this up with Jill and upper management, and it was decided that a meeting would be set to discuss what intelligence they had so far and to start setting in motion their tactical agenda, agreeing they had been stagnant way too long on addressing the issue.

*****

Wesker grinned viciously, a deep rumbling vibrating from his chest as he heard the door chime over the loud grunting as Chris pounded his body down harshly onto his aching cock. It had been a busy day, and they had not had much time to play, and they were making up for it. The current fuck fest had started in the kitchen as they attempted to make dinner and somehow made its way to the couch, where Chris was going to town, Wesker anchoring his body with a tight grip on his waist.

It was apparent Chris had not heard the chime as he did not slow down the grueling pace or open his eyes from the slitted adoring gaze that drank in Wesker’s flexing muscles and blazing pulsing irises, nor did he stop the punishing pace he was jerking his own weeping erection to. Wesker moaned softly, hoping his conniving little plan worked.

Again, sounds echoed into the living room as the front door opened and Piers's voice called out. Quickly Wesker shoved his fingers into Chris’s mouth, stifling any further moans as not to scare away his prey. He could hear footsteps and shuffling, and as planned, it was not just one person who was going to appear in the entryway. One of them started to speak as he watched them come around the corner, only to stop dead in their tracks.

Piers and Claire were both standing frozen in the entryway, and that was when Wesker removing his fingers from the drool slick mouth, a loud moan ripping from Chris’s chest, as he increased his pummeling rhythm trying to desperately reach his climax, which Wesker could tell was well on its way to a lovely crescendo. Wesker slyly kept eye contact with Claire, who was shocked into silence for once—hand over mouth as she could not take her eyes away from the vision before her.

Wesker had no fucks to give, nor was he ashamed of his nudity or the raunchy sex he and Chris were engaged in, absolutely uncaring if Claire could see all his naked glory as he pounded her brother’s ass, yet having Chris positioned in such a way to at least give him some integrity. Wesker wasn’t completely cruel in his attempt to burn the younger Redfield’s eyes out.

Chris, of course, did not notice, or seemingly did not notice, so caught up in his own building orgasm, but Wesker did, and he pulled Chris’s hips down to take over the jackhammering motions he knew the younger man loved so very much, fucking him even harder, causing Chris to release a gasping cry.

Chris let go of the hold he had on Wesker’s shoulder to grip one of his ankles, trying to match the harsh treatment against the solid upward strokes, back arched as he angled his body so that the fat cock driving into him perfectly jab against his prostate as he fisted his erection at a harsh pace, the couch creaking at the strain.

Chris froze suddenly, but his body continued to be pulled with Wesker’s thrusts. It being a particularly satisfying climax, his body tensed harshly as he came hard, his body clenching tightly, enough to push Wesker’s cock out of his ass, causing it to slap wetly against his asscheeks. Wesker released a hissing gasp and grabbed his dick to position it to reclaim the convulsing orifice, continuing to hammer roughly into Chris’s trembling body.

Having looked back to watch the sight of making his lover cum, in front of Piers and Claire no less, he returned his gaze over Chris’s shoulder to glare with a menacing smirk at the voyeurists. Suddenly, fingers were shoved into his mouth and his eyes whipped back to the dirty grin as Chris shoved his cum covered fingers further, almost down Wesker’s throat, causing him to choke slightly before starting to lick the messy digits clean. Wesker slunk his gaze back towards the doorway, the two guests still frozen in place, pale and shocked, but no disgust was detected, which he found quite intriguing.

Chris started to grind himself against Wesker, resuming a grueling pace, causing a loud moan to be ripped from the blonde’s chest as he tilted his head back, digging his fingers into Chris’s slick skin. 

That was the cue to leave, and Piers and Claire turned tail and ran out, slamming the front door in frustration.

Chris grinned, slighting glancing back over his shoulder but quickly returned his gaze back to Wesker, who was all teeth, still bouncing on Wesker’s cock, gasping and chuckling heartily. Chris deepened his grinding, one of Wesker’s weaknesses when he was so close. Hands shot down to grip Chris’s ass to deepen the rolling of his hips, tossing his head back over the couch, moaning gutturally, trying to swallow as his muscles and tendons strained.

Chris leaned over Wesker, a perversely evil expression as he angled his feet over the powerful flexing thighs to slow down the pulsing thrusts, breathlessly teasing the blonde right on the edge, “You wanted my sister to catch us, didn’t you?”

Wesker cried out in frustration as his peak started to backtrack, voice shaking as he gasped, brows furrowed, “What… whatever do you mean… Dearheart?”

Chris slowed his own motions slightly, “Are you trying to chase my sister out of town?”

Glaring up at his gray-haired lover in torturous pain at being denied, “What?! No never... I… cherish… your sister.”

Chris immediately yelled liar and subsequently bit Wesker’s left collarbone harshly as he renewed the severe pace, causing Wesker’s sensitive body to arch up, howling loudly at the shock of the bite on such sensitive skin as he came, a surprisingly whole-body orgasm that had him seeing stars as he bucked harder up into his lover whose teeth were still locked around the tender flesh and delicate bone.

Gasping loudly, Wesker gripped Chris’s nose tightly in an effort to release the harsh grip on the area where his flesh and bone had been shattered, which worked as Chris released his grip and jerked back his nose released as the body beneath him continued to jerk, “You’re no fun, Albert!”

The complaint earned Chris a death glare as his face was gripped and yanked down to be captured in a punishing, wet kiss.

*****

Claire could not stand to stare anymore at the porn scene escalating in front of her eyes and ran out of her brother’s and Wesker’s new residence, pulled along by Piers, who was as red as a tomato. They could hear an incredibly loud moan from Wesker that made the hairs on the back of her head stand on end, “Oh my God! Move Faster! My ears are bleeding!”

Claire had never heard the man make such a sound—or any man for that matter, “For fuck sake! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I did not need to see or hear that! … Fucking hell, they are… they are… so… fucking God damn hot!! Son of a bitch whore!!”

Stopping well away from the residence, Claire clutched at her hair in frustration, pacing back and forth, “Fuck, I am going to hell! There is no way I will not have nightmares about THAT!!”

Piers sighed, watching the redhead pace, her face just as red if not more so at the thought of seeing her brother like… that. Shuffling foot to foot, Piers crossed his arms, “It’s not the first time I’ve seen them go at it… and yeah, they are pretty… fucking hot. I’m a tad jealous, to be honest.” Nervously laughing as Claire whipped her head towards him, glaring death needles.

Putting his hands up and taking a step back, ‘I’m kidding! I’m kidding," but under his breath, as she relaxed, he silently murmured, ‘not kidding!’

He rubbed the back of his neck, blushing and nervously avoiding eye contact with the younger Redfield.

Back ramrod straight, Claire shivered despite the warm weather, “Ok, please can we change the topic! I really need to get that image out of my head sooner than later!”

Nervous silence followed as they could still hear the howling couple and put more distance between them. Though barely able to still hear them, someone indeed had a good set of lungs. However, at this distance, Claire could not tell which one it was. Good thing they had a fair amount of space between neighbors.

Claire smirked at the blushing soldier, who turned even redder at the intense sounds, slapping a hand over his eyes to avoid Claire’s gaze, “You know what, Piers? Want to go get ice cream? I know I could definitely use a… cool down… especially after… that.”

Lightening the mood, they both laugh and made way for Piers's vehicle, putting more space between them and the happy lovers.

Piers smiled genuinely, “You know what? Sure, why not. I know a great place in town.”

Traveling further away and into the city, Claire leaned her head on her hand against the door, staring out at the passing scenery, “I don’t know if I can get that… out of my head.”

Piers was silent a while but finally answered, at least from his own perspective, “You won’t. Ever. Trust me.” Flushing slightly and turning to hide his face, Piers remembered the first time he had stumbled upon their exploits. He sure as hell was not going to tell her he stayed to watch the action unfold.

Claire slammed her head back into her headrest, throwing heated accusatory eyes at her chauffeur, “Noooooo! Stopppp!! WHHYYYY??!!”

Piers glanced over, smirking at her nervously, “I’ve witnessed it firsthand on too many occasions. You can’t look at them and not see… that. Shit, just last week, in the parking lot…”

Claire sighed heavily, shoulders drooping, face in one hand massaging her brow, “Shut the Fuck Up! Godamnit, I hate you, Piers! Fucking Bastard! Can we please change the topic?!”

Chuckling and trying to lighten the mood, ignoring Claire’s insults, “So tell me about Raccoon City.”

.....

At the suggested ice cream parlor, Claire ogled at the different flavors for a good while before deciding, “Mint, please.”

Piers suddenly choked on his own spit, staring at Claire wide-eyed, “Oh shit, marry me, please?!”

Claire spun, a deep furrow in her brow, not sure if she heard what she thinks she heard, “What?!”

Piers immediately shrugged, deflecting her question with a question, “What?”

Claire side-eyed him as he pretended to look at the flavors, a small smirk on his face, “What did you just say, Pup?!”

Piers hated the nickname, but for some reason, he liked I when Claire said it and with such an aggressive tone, “No clue what you’re talking about. You must be hearing things. Mint for me too.”

Claire stared incredulously, unsure how to proceed or make of the slip of the sniper’s tongue. Knowing it was more than likely a joke. At least she hoped it was a joke.

Still eyeing him, she took a few swipes of her cone, “You’re easy to please.”

Piers shrugged with an honest expression, “I like what I like. I’m a simple guy, really.”

Grinning with a mischievous glint in her eyes, Claire egged him on as he paid their bill, “Oh? Do tell! And thanks, by the way, I could have paid."

Piers blushed and hid behind his cone, “What? I am! And you’re welcome, ma’ lady.”

Claire giggled, for a hothead, he was incredibly polite, “Don’t sweet talk me! I know you have a man-crush for my brother!”

Almost dropping his cone, Piers sputtered, face red as he wrenched his head towards her, “What?! Who said that?!”

Claire laughed, throwing her head back, “I can see it a mile away!”

Piers harrumphed, “Fuck you damn Redfields and your mind reading superpowers!”

She laughed at his frustration, “So tell me, how did you become sucked into my brother’s world?”

Piers shrank back a bit, shrugging, the mood suddenly thicker, “I really don’t want to talk about it…”

Claire noticed her cone was melting and sticky mess starting sliding over her fingers, “Wuss!”

Snarling playfully, Piers shot back, “Christ, you are just as antagonizing as your brother!”

In as charming a voice she could manage, “Runs in the family! So anyway, what made you want to become a sniper?”

Piers sighed, back onto safer ground once more, and a fairly neutral topic. He was not about to elaborate on how he came to be in the BSAA or admit to his continued crush, “Well… it’s a long story.”

Not thinking anything of the time, Claire badgered him, “I think we have time. I am not going back there… ever. Unless they greet me outside and are fully clothed, I’ll crash at Jill’s from now on.”

More excited than he knew he should be, Piers dramatically jumped on the topic, waving his arms around in exaggeration, splatting melted ice cream on the pavement, and his shirt, “Fuck!... Alright! Cool! So, it all started with my grandma…”

*****

Mockingly, Chris beamed down at the equally sweat-drenched body he was still straddling, “Lovely performance, Albert! Two for two now!” Laughing loudly, remembering at how Piers had stumbled upon them one evening in the dark corner of the parking lot next to the training center.

Wesker ran his hands up the slick chest, tracing the lines of contorted muscles and soft chest hair, “In such a short time too, a personal record. Do you think Piers will snap and give in? Or will we forever give him blue balls?”

Chris smirked, arching against the roaming hands that flicked at his nipples, “I like having Piers on my team. You keep trying to play those cards, and you’ll steer him into another section. Plus, I think he has something else to keep him preoccupied.”

Wesker’s brows furrowed, not sure what Chris was even talking about as his hands slid to Chris’s waist, pressing against the muscled hips forcing them to tilt, “Oh? You know something I don’t?”

Chris allowed the movement, anchoring his hands against Wesker’s shoulders, “He’s been hanging out with Claire. A lot. And though usually, I would grill a guy sniffing up my sister’s cooch, I oddly don’t mind that it’s him.”

Shifting his eyes over his lover, still not seeing it, “Hmm, I didn’t see any vibe.”

Chris teased, rocking forward on the soften member, trying to coax another round from it, “You can sometimes be clueless, Love.”

Wesker’s expression flattened into a stoic hardness, one that meant business.

Throwing his arms around the blonde in exaggeration and leaning forward, “Seriously, you really can be! It took you sooooo loooong to realize I was trying to get in your pants. Much longer than you think.”

Wesker folded his arms, pushing Chris away, turning his head away, “If that is what you insist.”

Chris tried to confirm it, despite the mock distance, “Umm-hmm!”

After allowing the younger man to settle himself in comfortably, he abruptly pushed Chris off to get to his feet as sly as a panther, causing Chris to roll off of him to crash into a heap of sweaty limbs. A surprised yelp as his ass hit the floor with a wet smack. Wesker laughed, hands on his hips as he backed away from the grumbling form sprawled next to the couch, “Shower, my Dear?”

Pulling himself up using the couch, Chris grinning with shining teeth, “Shower or…” Chris wagged his eyebrows suggestively, “ _Shower_?”

Still stepping backward, a finger encouraging Chris to finally get to his feet in order to follow, “Can’t we do both?”

Chris mockingly licked his lips, “Ready for another round then?”

The older man’s voice spoke of how much he was enjoying their games and not having to worry about neighbors banging their floor with a broom if they were too loud, “Perhaps.”

*****

Chris, Jill, Wesker, Piers, Claire, and a slew of other BSAA top-notch agents sat in one of the more obscure board rooms. They were in need of absolute privacy. All cell phones were turned off, batteries disconnected, and left outside the locked room in case someone or someones were listening in. The BSAA was still tracking down how their comms had been infiltrated. Too many people had been sacrificed during their first mission against Free Arcadia, and they were still reeling from the losses.

Jill was up at the front of the room using a laser pointer to identify targets on a projected map of Eurasia, “Alright, we know Free Arc has locations here in Latvia, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine under the guise of pharmaceutical manufacturing facilities of patent expired drugs.”

Claire piped up, “So they are operating in plain sight… great… another fucking Umbrella.”

Piers stood pacing, which caused Claire to turn towards him, patiently listening and smiling as the young sniper talked with expertise well beyond his years, “Where should we focus? We have three locations, and we need to start somewhere. We can’t tackle all three at once. We don’t have the human resources or the expertise for such an operation. We need to choose one and focus on it. Then tackle the other two. So the question is, what are we looking for to make a location priority?”

Chris continued on the line of questioning as he glanced through a small packet of papers, “We need to know what these locations are used for?”

Jill sighed as she shifted her weight, “I told you.”

Wesker growled, his right leg dancing nervously as his eyes shifted rapidly between the three locations, “What they are really working on, Jill? Biotech, genetic testing, BOW manufacturing, **cloning**??”

Another agent spoke up to try and calm the irate tyrant, “We don’t have that intel yet.”

Wesker stood, slamming his hands against the table, his voice rising in anger and panic, teeth bared and holding back a barely constrained snarl, “Prioritize! Get Ammar’s team on collection management ASAP. I want to know everything there is to know about everything at these facilities! We need to utilize every asset—!?”

A hand touched his shoulder, and Wesker jerked violently away from it, the snarl erupting finally until he realized it was only Chris, concern etched across furrowed brows of his lover. Chris had not seen Wesker like this in a long, long time. Not since before he fixed his virus, and he reached out again to try and reassure the older man.

Jill tried to reduce the tension by using her reasoning voice, “Wesker, we can’t just storm in. We already tried that, and lives were lost. The cost is too high and a risk we cannot take at this point.”

Wesker paced back and forth, keeping eyes on Chris’s concerned gaze yet avoiding the younger man, not wanting to upset him with his roiling emotions.

Wesker froze behind Chris’s chair, forcing him to twist to look up at Wesker, “I realize that, but the longer they exist, the longer the twins are in mortal danger. And… anyone for that matter. This isn’t just about me anymore. Or… There is much more at stake, and the longer they exist, creating and breeding these **_monsters_** , I will not rest! For all we know, they plan on infiltrating the base here! I will **NOT** let that happen!!”

Chris rotated back towards the room’s other occupants, concerned for the hovering menacing figure behind him, “We never did find out how they knew we were coming… and before you say anything, Piers, they _knew_.”

Piers huffed slightly, narrowing his gaze at his captain, a topic he had argued with Chris on several occasions, “Odd though it seemed like they didn’t know about Wesker being there or his enhancement.”

Jill folded her arms over her chest as she steeled her gaze on the tyrant, trying to keep back a small smirk, seeing the precipice of the violent outburst for what it was, “Maybe they did know Wesker was coming, and it was a test?”

Chris and Wesker jerked their attention to Jill, both expressions obvious that her notion was outrageous. Chris stood, absolutely perplexed, “What?! Why would you think that?”

Jill dropped her arms to her hips as she shuffled slightly, the quiet smile aimed directly at Wesker. Knowing that history repeats itself, it came back to bite Wesker right in his ass, “It’s a hunch, but… I just have this feeling. It seemed like their security system was still online when we were running the maze. And very little physical security overall to stop us.”

Piers was exasperated, “There were at least 50 guys out there! At least!”

Jill countered, slightly smug that no one else had thought to question the running security system, “They were all outside except a handful, which Wesker destroyed effortlessly. A small sacrifice for testing a BOW in combat, don’t you think?”

Wesker’s anger deflated as he gripped onto the back of Chris’s vacant chair, in a tight voice, “You.. think they were collecting data on… me?”

Piers smacked the table, startling everyone, including Wesker, who shifted unconsciously towards Chris, “The same reason why they would collect data on anyone who fought against BOWs. It’s combat data! It was a test run to see how their BOWs compared, and they left their own agents there to die by your hand, Dr. Wesker. They probably knew you fixed your handicap and wanted to see how your adaptation compared to their current stock of BOWs. Shit, I'm surprised they didn't try to get another sample of your DNA.”

Wesker didn't hear that second part, or Chris would have been evacuating the conference room. Wesker had stiffened as he went pale at Piers mention of combat data, which instantly brought a harsh memory from the mansion incident to the surface. Wesker's brain churning with the harsh reality he was also still just another manufactured experiment despite some of it being his own doing. He slowly made to sit, trying to be inconspicuous, but Chris noticed placing a hand on his shoulder and stood beside him.

Chris remained standing at his post next to Wesker, who seemed to have crumbled into himself as he muttered quietly under his breath, fingers twirling, “We can’t just do this willy nilly. We need a game plan. And experienced soldiers… people willing to tough it out and fight when things get really bad.”

Claire couldn’t think of a better candidate to bring in, “Well, we can always see if Leon is free.”

Several people jumped on the recommendation, unsure if Leon was even available or even able to assist. Jill happily volunteered to reach out to Sheva and Josh, knowing full well they would be excited to take down more bioterror scum.

Wesker sat listening several minutes until it finally clicked what ‘Leon’ they were speaking of, his face scrunching in disbelief, “Kennedy? The boy scout rookie?!”

Claire crossed her arms but looked smug, “Not anymore, Wesker. He’s a total badass beefcake now.”

Leaning back, smirking in amusement as color returned to his cheeks, Wesker taunted her in a sultry voice, “Is that so, Ms. Claire?”

She leaned forward, retorting hotly at the smug bastard’s face, not getting that he was pretending to be interested, “It is so!”

Jill spoke over them, already anticipating a shouting match, and Wesker was already on edge, the building panic attack stealthily avoided with diversion. She didn’t need him bouncing off the walls, “Alright, calm the fuck down, you two… Leon **is** a badass beefcake, end of story, so shut up. I can see if he is available. Other ideas?”

Wesker crossed his arms and sat back as he glared between Jill and Claire from behind his shades, not impressed at all.

A voice of reasoning finally wafted up, Piers spouting out, “Our guys would be more than happy to help. I mean, we lost so many. I can imagine they would want to fight alongside us to avenge our teammates’ deaths. It’s what we are all here for, right? To not let these sacrifices be in vain by letting these monsters get away with creating more BOWs to throw at us.”

Chris snapped his fingers and pointed at Piers, “Alright then, I’ll leave it up to you to vet everyone and pull the most capable troops together. I’ll let you develop the training plan too. Hop on it.”

Chris looked to the other leadership, who had sat mostly silent, watching the discussion unfold. Minus Claire, the four were in the midst of the mission and faced firsthand what exactly they were dealing with.

One of them muttered they were glad Dr. Wesker was on their side. If he had not been there, the BSAA would be in tatters.

Jill spoke, finalizing the agenda, “Ok then, it’s agreed upon. Everyone knows their part. Make it work. Claire, you come with me. I’ll introduce you to Ammar. Any suggestions are welcome. Maybe you can even reach back to Terrasave and see if they can provide any logistics. Unlikely, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

.....

Wesker had hastily retreated once the meeting was called, and Chris found him outside, standing and staring out into the distance, trembling slightly. Chris could tell he was still bothered by what Jill and Piers had said. That he was used in order for Free Arcadia to collect combat data on their BOWs that were obviously early prototypes. Wesker turned at the sound of Chris’s approaching steps, allowing his uncertainty awash his entire posture as he watched Chris approach.

Chris walked up to him and immediately surrounded him in a bear hug, uncaring if the PDA might cause Wesker to become uptight, but he was not pushed away but allowed himself to be embarrassed. Wesker bowed his head and pressed his forehead against Chris’s, “Do you think… what Jill said to be true?”

Chris knew the thought of being used as a test subject disturbed Wesker to his core, and the slight vibration of the older man’s body spoke volumes of his state of mind. But Chris would not lie to him, “I would not put it past them. If they knew we were coming, they probably knew you would be there too and that you had regained your strength."

Chris gripped Wesker’s neck just under his ears to bring the older man in for a kiss in an attempt to comfort the obviously frayed nerves. Chris backed away slightly, pressing their foreheads back together, “Albert, I know this is hard, but you can’t just launch an atomic bomb and expect that to be the end of our problems.”

Wesker gripped Chris’s wrists in an effort to steady himself, eyes focused on the rise and fall of Chris’s chest, avoiding the concerned yellow gaze, whispering, “Why can’t I?”

Chris angled Wesker’s head up to fully face him, the orange irises pulsing in conflicting emotions through the dark shades, but Chris was a voice of reason ever since Africa, “Because, what if there are more Auggies and Astras in any of those facilities. It is our job to protect them because who else will?”

Wesker swallowed nervously but shook his head in agreement, having not thought of the possibility of there being more cloned children, only focusing on the spliced BOWs that had attacked them and free-floating in mock wombs.

Wesker sighed, “You are right, as always, Dearheart. Where would I be if not for you?”

Chris chuckled lightly, “King of the world?”

Wesker smiled slightly as he corrected Chris, purring, “You mean God?”

Chris laughed outright, pulling Wesker close, wrapping his arms around the tensed shoulders, “Well, you can be the God of my world, and I’ll worship and grovel at your feet for all eternity.”

Wesker perked up, smiling mischievously, tightening his hold in return, “That is… acceptable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have never seen “The Fall” GO SEE IT. Watch it 5 times, you will always catch something new. The blue city will always be my favorite part.
> 
> Anyways… moving on…
> 
> I left that second shower open to your own interpretation. Have fun with it. Be creative.
> 
> I will not be starting part 3 for a bit. If I do it will be more of a prologue of what is to come. I want to have my chapters planned out better this time before even starting to post. It will likely drag in more characters. All building up to the single image that created this entire mess of an AU. Yes, all of this is based on one single vision I had, and everything has stemmed/will stem to get to that original vision.
> 
> I will add chapter 8 with questions at some point of where I want to take this. Bringing in new characters and building up some new character relationships, but I’m not sure how far to take them, be it an actual ship or platonic, I don’t know. Characters and ship suggestions welcome. 
> 
> So yea not sure altogether how exactly this will end other than Wesker getting his revenge though not without lots and lots of blood being spilled and organs flying and smutty smut porn and maybe a sacrifice or two, though I am not a fan of killing off main characters.


	8. Need Some Help Driving This Pony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader suggestions for what would be interesting in the third part. Characters and relationships mainly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt title – Questions I need help answering?
> 
> I’ll keep updating the post date when I have more to ask. This is all I have for now.

27 Feb

Thoughts on Ada appearing?

Sherry will be there, but Jake/Sherry? Or Jake/Sherry/Piers/Claire and no one knows what/who they want? Ah, the shitty awkward years of chasing ass (not really-not for me anyways-but these 4, I can see it).

Sherry and Wesker will be having a very awkward conversation(s). Wesker reminisces about William, throwback memories maybe and then Wesker gets depressed. But Chris cheers him up.

Wesker kinda being the awkward Dad to Sherry maybe, not happy with Jake's advances? I think it would be funny if Wesker is the awkward Dad to Sherry but fending Jake off (despite being his biological son). Jake would be so pissed! "You're not my real Dad, Albert!"

Chris mumbles in the background, "And you wanted to be a Dad to the twins..."

Wesker yelling, "Shut the fuck up, Chris. You are not helping."

Chris's response, "I'm the cool Dad." Steals Wesker's sunglasses.

Wesker storms off and everyone is laughing at him.

With the quad chasing each other's ass, Wesker feels left out not being able to prank anyone.

26 Feb

Jake/Piers rivalry? For Claire? Or just a plain rivalry?

Built-up a friendship between Claire and Piers but should it stop there? I only saw a handful of Piers/Claire fics but wondering if I should go down that road. Maybe payback for Chris and Wesker being A-holes to Piers.

Bring Carlos in? IDK what he did after RE3. Sorry out of the loop! I don’t even know if he is still alive!

Does Wesker know he had a son? Or is Jake a surprise? (Surprise Jake's in part 3!)

Bring Leon in? Who is in that threesome with the badass beefcake? Is it real or someone's fantasy/wet dream?

Sheva and Albert on edge, borderline pissing contest when Chris is not around? (I’ve never played 5 and not familiar with her and Josh’s background – or Sheva and Wesker's issue. I'd like to keep some in-character backgrounds of how they might interact sooo... I will research but would like other thoughts on the matter.)


End file.
